


Skyward

by 64907



Series: Skyward [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Community: arashi_exchange, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Injury, M/M, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-04 11:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 142,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12167967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: Exiled to his enemy’s home planet, Crown Prince Matsumoto Jun must conceal his true identity, prevent an impending war, and reclaim his throne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akhikaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akhikaru/gifts).



> Written for this year’s Arashi Exchange. I tweaked my recipient’s Star Wars prompt and came up with a space opera inspired by C.S. Pacat’s Captive Prince trilogy. If you notice any similarities in the plot, it’s because for a great part of that series I was going, “I will space!Sakumoto this shit.”
> 
> I'll go with updating this in chunks because whatever's on AO3 will be the remastered version of the story. No changes in the plot will take place, just me correcting my minor mistakes that I overlooked when I submitted the thing.
> 
> Huge thanks to Kuri and Nina for spotting my mistakes. Anything left are mine.

They had Jun on his knees with his wrists encased in irons by the time he found the words to speak.  
  
“I’m your Prince,” he said, and not a single man took heed, but he would not lose hope so easily. “You will unlock these cuffs this instant and tell me what’s going on.”  
  
They didn’t look at him. Nobody did, and not even a repetition of Jun’s words earned him a glance. His father’s royal guard, conspiring against him like this? He didn’t understand anything of what was happening. He’d been enjoying a private dinner with a suitor when they’d barged in, shot his suitor with a photon rifle and declared that the Duke of Stratos had just been murdered by the Crown Prince.  
  
Jun had expected to die then, but they’d shoved him to his knees and merely pointed their rifles at him while one pulled his arms to his back and cuffed his wrists. His knees ached from the harsh contact with the floor, but it was negligible compared to the fear building up in him.  
  
When she strode in, she was regal and perfect—a face Jun hadn’t seen in years.  
  
“No,” he said, the disbelief quickly replaced by hurt in his voice. “No, not you.”  
  
She smiled, teeth gleaming like her earrings under the light. “What’s wrong, brother?”  
  
Jun tugged at his binds, trying to break free. “I demand to know what’s happening,” he spoke authoritatively, asserting his place in his father’s household. He wouldn’t be intimidated. This couldn’t be real. “Why am I cuffed and on my knees like a common prisoner?”  
  
A head tilt was all he earned. “Because that’s what you are now.”  
  
Dread crept up on him, settling at the pit of his stomach. It felt taxing just to breathe. “What are you doing? You—you abdicated.”  
  
“The abdication is declared forfeit if something were to happen to the remaining heir,” she said matter-of-factly. “You should know your planet’s own laws.”  
  
“I demand to see father,” Jun said. A soldier held him in place now as he struggled before repeating his request once more. It fell on seemingly deaf ears; she merely blinked at him.  
  
“That’s odd,” she said, striding closer to him. She crouched, lowering her face on level with Jun’s, and with a long-nailed finger, tipped his chin slightly. “How can you not know what happened to him?”  
  
Jun stared at her. Her dark eyes, the long eyelashes, the rouge on her lips. She wore jewelry on her person, but none of it had father’s crest. She had a ring on, a signet with a crest that Jun hadn’t seen for almost a decade. Hers.  
  
“What have you done?” Jun demanded.  
  
She studied him. “My dear brother, didn’t you know? You are charged with high treason and for the murder of the Duke of Stratos, as well as our beloved father, the good king.” She stroked his cheek lovingly. “May the stars shine upon you.”  
  
\--  
  
Jun woke in the prison tower.  
  
The cell was dank and desolate. The walls were made of unpolished ores and gave off the smell of rusting metal. The only entrance was a meter-thick door of the same material, dense and impenetrable. They had tossed him here after knocking him out, and Jun had woken up with a platter of prison food placed a few inches from his feet. They had at least removed the cuffs, but Jun could do nothing else save feed himself.  
  
He didn’t know how many days had passed. Whoever knocked him out had done a stellar job at it; there was a remainder of a throbbing ache at the back of his skull. If he paid it less attention, perhaps it wouldn’t flare up into a migraine as a result of the trauma.  
  
He looked back on the days that led to this moment. Nothing made sense. Rina was his half-sister, his father’s child from his first wife. When Jun’s mother had given birth to him, Rina had already been Crown Princess. Then she had abdicated and moved to one of the royal family’s palaces on the outer moons. She sent transmissions and emissaries as she’d handled one small galactic affair after another, but Jun hadn’t seen her since his inauguration as Heir Apparent.  
  
Until a couple of days ago, when she’d touched his cheek tenderly and accused him of crimes he didn’t—couldn’t commit. His skin burned where her palm had been. His father was dead, his suitor too. And for all he knew, their deaths could have been made public and all the blame placed under his name.  
  
Heat prickled at the corners of his eyes. How could Rina murder their own father? Even if she’d hired mercenaries to do it, they had been acting on her orders. She had orchestrated the murder, this entire scheme. She might be plotting Jun’s own demise the longer he remained here, and he wouldn’t see it coming.  
  
He couldn’t hear a thing while inside the cell. It was designed to be undetectable—that was what the unpolished ores were for. The odor came with a signal-blocking capability, and any hopes Jun held for a rescue had been squashed the moment he’d realized where he was. Unless they opened that door, there’d be no way for him to leave this place.  
  
There was no window that’d at least give him a hint if it was morning or night. They had dressed him down and left him unprepared for the cold, the tips of his toes beginning to numb. In a few hours, his teeth would chatter. Whatever his sister’s scheme was, she was keeping him alive for a reason—if the supply of food and water meant anything. He wasn’t dying, at least not at the moment.  
  
Would she make it a spectacle? Jun already had a few ideas in mind. His execution would be the swiftest way to get rid of him if she was truly after the throne. But public executions were customs of old. He’d get a trial, and if he was found guilty of treason, his death would be in the hands of somebody else, not in the planet’s governing body.  
  
Jun shut his eyes. If he was going to be killed, he’d be sent to the high prison in the asteroid belt of the fourth planet, the only place in the system that wasn’t influenced by any ruling body. Laws didn’t exist there, at least not the laws of Jun’s home planet. If Rina would have him killed, he’d die a nameless man, thrown amongst the worst of the outlaws in a forgotten chunk of space.  
  
Had his father suffered the same thing? Dying in the hands of a family member and knowing it? Jun wanted answers before his death. He’d become convinced that the moment he departed this cell, it’d be because of a court summons and a trial that would never be in his favor.  
  
The first lock untwisted, emitting a loud creak that made Jun press himself against the wall. Its uneven surface dug in his back, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t cuffed anymore, and he wouldn’t come willingly without a fight.  
  
The second lock followed, and the doors swung open. Jun crouched on his heels and dove for it, tackling one guard to the ground and landing one blow to the man’s face before he found himself hauled off by two guards holding his arms behind his back.  
  
Rina stared at him, amused. “I see you don’t like your new chambers.”  
  
“How did he die?” Jun asked, teeth gritting in rage. He tried to squirm free, but the guard he’d punched stood on his feet and backhanded him. Jun spat in his face and earned himself another slap, this time to the other cheek.  
  
“That’s enough,” Rina said. The guard obeyed, stepping back, but not before giving Jun a look that indicated this wasn’t over. “I need him to look undamaged. If I find a bruise on his skin, I’ll make sure you receive a corresponding mirror to it.”  
  
“Apologies, Your Highness,” the guard said, not looking at Jun anymore.  
  
Jun lifted his head once more, ignoring the sting on his cheeks. “How did he die?”  
  
“Peacefully,” Rina said. “You don’t believe me. I can see it on your face.”  
  
“You murdered him. Our father,” Jun said.  
  
She merely blinked. “Whether you believe me or not doesn’t make a difference. He’s dead.”  
  
“And soon I will be, too?” Jun managed a smile, and he hoped it was as mocking as he’d intended. “You’re not that creative.”  
  
Her perfectly groomed eyebrows arched in amusement. “That’s a funny thing to say. Pray tell, brother, what did you deduce will happen to you while you waited here?”  
  
“Does it matter? You’ll have me dead soon enough.”  
  
She smiled. “Did you think you’d get a trial in front of the court and the council and be charged with high treason and found guilty? That you’d be sent to the high prison for a commoner’s execution?” Her lips twitched when Jun’s eyes widened. “You’re not that creative.”  
  
Jun felt colder, the tendrils of fear creeping up on him. He struggled against the hold on him, all to no avail. These men were battle-hardened and bigger than him. He could tell he’d bruise on the parts of his skin where their hands were. “What are you planning?”  
  
She approached him, and Jun could see their superficial resemblance. Same eyes, same nose, same facial contour. “I came here to bid you goodbye, since that was something I was never able to tell father.” She gripped his chin and tilted his face side-to-side to examine his cheeks. She was unaffected by Jun resisting. “Farewell, brother. We will never see each other again.”  
  
“Kill me,” Jun said as she stepped back and nodded to the men holding him. “Kill me like you killed him, like how you had them all killed.”  
  
“No,” she said firmly. “That’d be quick and easy. Cowardly. You deserve more than that, Jun, and do you know why?”  
  
Jun waited, eyes fixed on her as the guards began dragging him away.  
  
“I wouldn’t have done any of this if it weren’t for you.”  
  
\--  
  
They knocked him out after that, and what Jun could recall were only flashes and snippets of conversation he couldn’t make sense of. The next time he woke, he was in a dark, cramped space with other people in a cargo hold that smelled of something pungent.  
  
He was in some kind of a spacecraft, its hinges creaking with each turbulent movement.  
  
“Oh good, you’re up,” the man across from him said. Jun noticed that the man was chained to the wall and he tugged at his arms, finding himself in a similar situation. “Did you defect too?”  
  
Jun blinked in confusion. “Where am I?”  
  
“Come now, you know where you are,” the man said. “No need for embarrassment when we’re all accused of similar things.”  
  
Accused? Jun had only been accused of high treason and he was innocent of it. He looked around and saw that he was chained to the wall along with four other men. Two of them were asleep. Both looked older than Jun. The other didn’t seem to speak their language, and judging from his clothing he looked more like a pirate from the outer rim than a native of Jun’s planet.  
  
The man in front of him, meanwhile, spoke his language and wore the clothes of a trader pilot.  
  
“Where are we?” Jun asked.   
  
He was definitely in a spaceship, but the filthy surroundings like this only existed for certain kinds of ship.  
  
He felt his stomach drop. Did Rina put him in a slaver’s ship? Or was he sold to pirates to be delivered as human cargo? How far did she go?  
  
The man in front of him blinked. Twice.   
  
“You truly don’t know,” he said, sounding convinced. Jun only looked at him, waiting for an answer. “We’re in a ship.”  
  
“Yes, I figured out that much,” Jun said. “Where are we going?”  
  
“They’re defectors,” the man told him. He inclined his head to his right, to the direction of the two sleeping men Jun had noticed earlier. “Those two were pilots for the Denebian army, but they defected before they reached the base. Got caught.”  
  
“You’re fighter pilots?” Jun asked.  
  
The man scoffed. “Not me. I said them. Do I look like a fighter pilot?”  
  
“No. You’re dressed in merchant clothing.” Jun’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a trader or are you masquerading as one?”  
  
The man smiled. “You’re a clever one.” The man tilted his chin at him. “You’re not dressed like a trader or a soldier, and you seem smart enough to not be where you are.” Jun braced himself. “What did you do?”  
  
“You haven’t answered any of my questions,” was what Jun said instead.  
  
They exchanged a look for several moments, until an understanding fell between them.  
  
“I’m not really a trader,” the man said, finally. “But I do deal with money.”  
  
“Pirate?”  
  
The corner of the man’s mouth quirked. “You’re looking at the wrong man.” He tilted his chin to the person on Jun’s left, and Jun knew he was correct in his assumptions earlier. “I’m a swindler.”  
  
Jun’s throat felt dry. Rina had tossed him in with criminals. Men who would rob him and slit his throat without a second thought. He was aware he looked nothing like them. He’d been dressed down and he looked as much as any civilian found in his planet, but he was certain none of his features showed any of the supposed experience these men around him possessed. He looked nothing like a pilot who had attempted to run away from the law.  
  
“Does that scare you?” the man asked.  
  
Jun tried to cover for his miss by shaking his head. “If you’re a swindler and you got caught, I’d say you weren’t a very good swindler.”  
  
“Or I tried to swindle the people who were after me because of a false tip,” the man said. “Tried to run and got caught, and now I’m stuck here with this lot and you.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not one of us, are you?”  
  
Jun could never reveal who he had been. Everyone on his planet probably assumed that he’d died in whatever circumstance Rina had decided to make them believe. It wasn’t as if they had a choice. They weren’t too different from Jun in that aspect, except that Jun knew the truth. But what good would knowing the truth do if he’d been sent so far away that his existence might as well have been erased?  
  
“I’m a pilot,” Jun said. It wasn’t a lie; he had to learn how to fly a ship on his own. He even had a personal one, smaller than the flagship of the royal family. He used to take it as far as the fourth moon of their planet to observe the constant meteor showers there.  
  
The man’s eyebrow arched in obvious doubt. “A pilot,” he repeated.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And why are you here, pilot?”  
  
Jun wracked his brains for similar cases he’d heard in court. Once a month, his father had held court and listened to the concerns of their people, and that had included passing on sentences to guilty outlaws. “My license was revoked and yet I still operated.”  
  
The man hummed in consideration. “Operated in what?”  
  
Jun shrugged, hoping it was convincing. He wasn’t much of an actor. That was Rina, that had always been Rina. “Liquor.”  
  
To Jun’s surprise, the man smiled. “Now that’s something I like. Lots of money, you know? Nevermind the currency; people would pay hard money for hard liquor. Did you deal with the hard stuff? The illegal ones from past the outer rim?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, because he couldn’t say anything else. “I was caught with fifty bottles of Velori rum in my cargo hold.”  
  
“Nasty stuff,” the man said with a snort. “Though with that face, I’m sure you were able to sell your cargo for so much more back in your prime.”  
  
Compliments regarding his looks were things Jun had heard often, mostly from his suitors. As Crown Prince, there’d been suitors flocking to the palace after his inauguration, all of them hopeful to become the High Consort Presumptive. He’d heard all kinds of praises and sweet words and had fallen for none.  
  
He had no reaction save for a shrug. “Not good enough since I’m here.” His eyes narrowed. “Where is this ship taking us?”  
  
“To where pilots are needed with their backgrounds mostly unchecked,” the man said.  
  
Jun stared at the man, hoping to find a trace of a lie in his features. There was none.  
  
“No,” he said in disbelief. “I’m a Saiphan.”  
  
“Yes, I noticed that from your clothes,” the man said.  
  
“I’m a Saiphan, and you’re telling me we’re going to Hamal?”  
  
The man gave him another smile, this one almost sympathetic. “Shame you no longer have your liquor stock with you. Would have convinced them not to be too hard on you.”  
  
Jun closed his eyes. Rina had him sent to Hamal, the one star system whose royal family hated Jun’s the most because of the abduction of their Empress Apparent by Jun’s great-great grandfather. They had eloped, and his great-great grandfather had brought the princess to his home. The Empress of Hamal had decreed that all business with Saiph would be stopped unless her daughter returned, but it had never happened. Jun’s great-great grandmother stayed as queen of Saiph, severing all ties with her family. She also had the Saiphan army help her reclaim the assets in her name, a few habitable moons that were now part of Saiph’s territory.  
  
Blood had been spilled in order to achieve that, and Hamal never forgot.  
  
Hamal had restricted any visits or any form of communication with Saiph, and any of Saiph’s attempts to make amends had been turned away or ignored.  
  
It was a known fact in every galaxy. The Hamali were people who hated Jun’s the most, their transgression never forgotten despite the decades that passed. To have him sent there, knowing full well that his clothes would give him away…  
  
How far did Rina’s cruelty go? Whatever did Jun do to make her loathe him this much?  
  
He opened his eyes and found the man staring at him.  
  
“You think they’ll beat you up,” the man concluded.  
  
“I’m not terrified of being punched or kicked,” Jun said. He’d been trained to protect himself despite having bodyguards following him since he’d been able to walk on his own.  
  
The man nodded. “All right. But you don’t believe they’ll stop there.”  
  
“They hate us,” Jun said. He was certain he’d suffer; that was Rina’s intention. Killing him would have disappointed her. He remembered something, and he faced the man once more. “You said they needed pilots.”  
  
“Yes,” the man said.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Why else?” The man shrugged. “Hamal is getting ready for war.”  
  
\--  
  
Hamal was named after its brightest sun in its constellation, the only planet revolving around said star. As a planet, it was composed of waters and rocky cliffs made of lime- and sandstone. The royal palace was, to Jun’s knowledge, completely different from his own. Saiph had a floating city for its capital, the royal palace at the center of it. Hamal’s royal palace was situated atop a high cliff, overlooking a vast sea. Green was not a common sight on the planet save for the color of its seas; the primary source of living was the mining of precious metals and unpolished ores. The very same ores that had surrounded Jun not too long ago. If the people of Hamal eventually had him working in one of their mines, the irony wouldn’t be lost on him.  
  
The port of Hamal was not a massive aerodome behind a signal-barring gate similar to Saiph’s. Jun’s home planet had more resources—farming, cattle, and nearly all kinds of marine life found in the star system. Saiph had a flourishing global market trading economy, unlike Hamal, which merely relied on what their people could obtain from the tunneling caves under their cliffs. In economical terms, Saiph had the money and the resources to fund a war.  
  
Jun could only stare at the man in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. “War? War against whom?”  
  
The man merely eyed him, and Jun knew. He’d known. He’d simply wanted to hear it for himself.  
  
“Who is funding this war?” he asked next. An intergalactic war between Saiph and Hamal was what his father had been trying to prevent. Before Jun’s ascension, the rumors had been circulating already. His father had sent emissaries to parley with Hamal, and to Jun’s knowledge, none of them had returned successful. “The Hamali don’t have the money to sustain a war with my home planet. The scale is too great for them to imagine.”  
  
“Who cares if they have the money or not? They certainly intend to have the manpower, if they’re desperate enough to have outlaws pilot their ships.” The man shrugged. “Maybe they all think it’s the same, you know?” He gestured to the Denebian men to Jun’s far right. “Those two have no problem since they’re used to fighter ships, but us? We’re traders.”  
  
“I am,” Jun said. “You’re not.”  
  
The man smiled. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t anyone about what I’m really in for.”  
  
To Jun, this man’s appreciation was unnecessary. Whoever was making the delivery of pilots to a potential war zone likely had information on each of his cargo. Jun could only hope Rina hadn’t gone too far and declared him as the Crown Prince of Saiph.  
  
“Would you do the same for me?” Jun asked, just as their ship landed and came to a full stop. The metal around them creaked from lack of oil on the gears and from overuse, but the ship miraculously held on despite the rough landing.  
  
“I would have,” the man answered. Jun could hear footsteps above him; their handlers seemed to be getting ready to unload their cargo. “Had you told me the truth.”  
  
Jun’s eyes widened before he recovered, and he leaned forward as far as he could. “What are you asking for? I won’t tell anyone what you just told me; I don’t even know if any of it is true.”  
  
“I’ll tell you something you know to be true,” the man said, leaning closer as far as his chains allowed him. “You’re not a trader. Had you’ve been caught with fifty bottles of Velori rum like you said, you wouldn’t be here; you’d be one of them.” He looked up, gesturing to where the handlers were, at the floor above them. “You’ve never smelled Velori rum in your life, have you? This cargo hold reeks of it. I’d say before they chucked us in here, they had to make another kind of delivery first.”  
  
Jun could tell that the color had drained from his face. “What do you want from me?”  
  
The man blinked in thought. “Nothing. Just don’t get in my way.”  
  
“You won’t tell them?” Jun asked. Their handlers were coming; he could hear them speaking in broken Hamali, and soon, the latch would be opened and they’d be released one-by-one.  
  
“Why should I bother?” the man asked back. “You can tell them your pitiful lie yourself or you can come up with a better one the moment they turn us in for questioning and verification.” He smiled, appearing rather mischievous under the intermittently blinking overhead light. “Provided it matches the files on hand, of course.”  
  
Jun was in bigger trouble than he’d initially thought. He had no idea what his papers said about him. Unlike the man before him, if he’d been lying to Jun, he still knew what was on record regarding his transgressions.  
  
He looked straight at the man, who was watching him curiously.  
  
“Help me,” he said quietly. There was nothing else for him to do.  
  
The man blinked. It was the first time Jun had seen something akin to surprise on his face. “That’s interesting.”  
  
“I mean it,” Jun said. “Help me.”  
  
“We’re both in chains.” The man tugged at his wrists to prove his point. “How can I help you? We’re both human cargo in this situation and you know that.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Jun admitted. “I don’t know anything—why I’m here, why a war is happening when it shouldn’t. But I do know I won’t survive out there for two seconds unless you help me.”  
  
The man appeared to consider it. “What’s in it for me? I have no love for Saiph; it was your military that caught up with me and put me in here. One Saiphan bound to die in the hands of the Hamali means nothing to me.”  
  
“You’re right,” Jun said. “It doesn’t concern you. But I’m asking anyway.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you could’ve dismissed me the moment I asked for aid, and you haven’t.”  
  
To Jun’s bewilderment, the man straightened up and smiled, the kind that almost convinced Jun that he had been telling the truth when he’d declared himself a swindler. “You’re an amusing one.”  
  
They heard the lock turn, and Jun watched as the hatch opened slowly. He could see boots from the other side, and as the door rose, Jun saw that they carried guns.  
  
These weren’t Hamali soldiers. They didn’t wear uniforms and had no badges that had the crest of the Empire. At best, they were mercenaries or guerillas, operating in stealth. Jun couldn’t make sense of what was happening.  
  
“This is your cargo?” one man who seemed to be the leader asked the handler. Jun could tell the handlers had come from the outer rim, taking up jobs that nobody had wanted. People from the outer rim dressed in the same fashion: tattered cloaks over their heads, leather gloves that ran up to their forearms.  
  
“Yes,” the handler answered.  
  
“Six men?” the leader asked in Hamali. He seemed outraged. “You promised me ten, at least.”  
  
“Trouble getting past the gate,” the handler said in broken Hamali. His accent was off, and to Jun, he sounded like he was completely lying.  
  
The leader hummed before pulling out a phaser, and Jun’s breath caught. In his periphery, he saw the other men with him watching the scene calmly. The man from across him was watching him and not what was about to happen.  
  
Jun faced the man. Whoever asked for pilots wasn’t getting his money’s worth, and this leader might kill them all in retaliation.  
  
“You speak Hamali, don’t you?” the man whispered to him.  
  
Jun nodded.  
  
“Are we going to die?”  
  
“Not yet,” Jun murmured. He looked back to the opened hatch and found the handler held in the collar of his tunic by the leader. “We might be, soon. They were expecting ten men.”  
  
“All right, I’ll help you,” the man said. Jun stared at him. “But only if you do as I say and keep the questions to yourself. I can’t speak Hamali, and because of that, I need you.”  
  
Jun was grateful he had the expensive tutoring that he’d endured in his youth. He was nowhere near a silver tongue, but he spoke more languages than the average civilian. Had he not been royalty, he’d perhaps pass for a scholar in Saiph.  
  
He gave the man a nod and turned his eyes back to the hatch.  
  
“I’m telling you, trouble at the gate!” the handler was saying in Hamali, the phaser tip pressed to his cheek.  
  
“If you had trouble getting past the gate like you said, you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” the leader pointed out before shoving the handler back, not caring if he hit the metal frames of the hatch. “Get this fool out of my sight.”  
  
The men behind him obeyed without a word, dragging the handler away. The leader pinched his nasal bridge before he straightened and fished out a pad from under his robes. The ones he wore flowed and he lacked gloves. Jun could only see that he wore a tunic underneath and breeches that had seen better days, tucked inside his battered boots.  
  
He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He was lanky in build, perhaps of the same height as Jun, and he was frowning at his pad like he didn’t know how to make it work.  
  
Jun barely suppressed his flinch when the man slammed his pad against the nearest metal frame.  
  
“This thing doesn’t work anymore,” he complained.  
  
“You should probably get yourself a new one,” a man behind him suggested. They all spoke like natives, and Jun settled for listening in without being too obvious about it. If anything, he was probably the only man out of the six who could understand what the people about to retrieve them were saying.  
  
“I can’t,” the leader said. “I made this myself.”  
  
The man behind him laughed. “Ah, that’s why it doesn’t work.”  
  
“Shut your mouth,” the leader said in a voice that seemed close to smiling. “There we go. The prisoner roster. Let’s see who we have here.”  
  
Jun looked in front of him, finding the same man watching him. “They’re reviewing our profiles.”  
  
“Are they?” he asked with a smile. Then, in a louder voice, he said, “I’m hungry!”  
  
Jun stared at him, at the obvious way he was attracting attention to himself.  
  
The leader turned to their direction and approached with a frown. “What was that?” he asked in the common tongue when his back was to Jun. His accent was off, like he rarely stepped foot outside his home planet.  
  
“I’m hungry, I said,” the man answered. “How long is this going to take? My wrists are aching too; I’ve been strung up here for hours.”  
  
“Did you think you were going to be dropped off to a pleasure planetoid?” the leader asked.  
  
Jun’s new friend stared at the leader from head to foot then back up. “I don’t know, but you sure don’t look like a pleasure worker. You look like you haven’t gotten laid in years. Or the type that only got coin if all the other workers were occupied.”  
  
That made the men around Jun snicker, including the leader’s companions. The leader shot them all a glare which made them shut up and lower their heads.  
  
The leader looked down his pad before lifting his gaze once more. “Says here you’re a swindler.” Then he straightened. “I know your name.”  
  
Jun didn’t expect the man had been telling the truth. And from the looks of it, he seemed to be a big shot too, if the leader’s reaction meant anything.  
  
“How,” the leader said, “pray tell, did they manage to capture you and chuck you in this derelict of a ship, Ninomiya Kazunari?”  
  
The name registered. No one had been able to take a good photo of him in his bounty posters, and he had longer hair and an unshaven face so Jun hadn’t recognized him. But Jun knew him, or rather, his reputation.  
  
Ninomiya looked bored. “False tip.”  
  
That earned the leader’s laugh. “Is that right? The high prison wanted you so bad, they raised your bounty a few credits more. I should consider turning you over to them.”  
  
“You won’t though,” Ninomiya said with confidence that Jun had no idea what was the source of. “Because if you do, that’s another man short. From your original count of ten, you’re already missing four. Surrender me, that’ll be five.”  
  
“I can do the math on my own,” the leader snapped.  
  
Ninomiya didn’t seem affected. “Can you?” He smiled, the same lazy one he’d been flashing Jun awhile ago. “Now, tell me, is the bounty worth what you’ll get in exchange from your superior, whoever that may be?”  
  
“Shut up,” the leader said, and he gestured to his men. “Gag this one. He’s too smart. The next thing you know you lot will be handing over to him all assets under your name after only a few words from him.”  
  
“I’m honored you think I’m that good,” Ninomiya said.  
  
The men moved, but the leader stopped and faced Ninomiya once more. “Wait. How did you know we were expecting ten men? You speak Hamali?”  
  
Ninomiya was smirking. “Not me.”  
  
And then Ninomiya looked at Jun, which made the leader focus on Jun as he flicked his finger over the pad in his hands. Jun braced himself, watching cautiously as the man scrolled through the profiles of the men handed to him. He looked up and saw Ninomiya attempting to bite off the hand of one man before another managed to successfully slip the gag on him, rendering him silent.  
  
Jun was on his own. He understood Hamali, but he didn’t know how far it would take him.  
  
“That’s funny,” the leader said in Hamali when he seemed to have skimmed through Jun’s profile. Jun could only see a photo of him at a corner, undoubtedly staged so he’d appear as a repeat offender, an outlaw. The leader’s eyes narrowed at him. “With your name alone, he’d have a field day with you.”  
  
Jun couldn’t say a word, afraid that it’d give him away. Of course Rina hadn’t bothered to change his name. It must’ve amused her endlessly to deliver a man into their enemy’s lands, knowing that his name alone would grab the attention of whoever handled him.  
  
“Unless you’re him?” the leader asked, and Jun willed himself not to react. He tried to mimic Ninomiya’s bored look. If he gave himself away, he’d be done for. “But then again, they say he’s dead.”  
  
“Dead?” Jun repeated as emotionlessly as he could.  
  
“How many people remarked on you sharing the name of the Crown Prince of Saiph?” the leader asked. “Or should I say former Crown Prince? You must have heard that all your life.”  
  
“Many,” Jun said. He decided to stick with one-worded answers. The more he said, the more they could be used against him.  
  
“They say he’s dead, that he fled from justice and was shot on the run by his personal guard,” the leader told him. “Others say he was thrown in exile, but there are those who believe that he’s on his way to the high prison for execution. What do you believe in?”  
  
Jun chose his words carefully. “He’s dead.”  
  
It wasn’t far from the truth. Crown Prince Jun of Saiph had died in that dank, underground cell at the lowest level of the prison tower. He’d been dead the moment they’d had him on his knees. He’d been dead the moment he’d reunited with Rina.  
  
“Pity,” the leader said. “He would’ve wanted to meet him, you know? To speak with man-to-man, not as man-to-king.”  
  
“What? Who?” Jun asked.  
  
The leader smiled. It was a toothy grin, like something truly amused him. “Says here you’re a traitor.” He was looking at his pad, and Jun could imagine how all of this must’ve delighted Rina. “That you’re a deserter.”  
  
“I’m no different from those two,” Jun said, tilting his head to the Denebians on his right. “Why else would all of us be stuck in the same cargo hold?”  
  
“If you rattle off like Ninomiya, you’re getting gagged too,” the leader warned. “On second thought,” he said, gesturing to his men, “gag this one as well. Be careful of what you say: in case it didn’t get into your heads earlier, this one understands us.”  
  
“I won’t cause trouble,” Jun said. He’d never been fond of being restrained.  
  
“You already have,” the leader told him, moving to the person beside him. Just before his men managed to gag Jun, he finished his thought. “If you haven’t, how else did you get here?”  
  
\--  
  
The Hamali spaceport was connected to a tunnel that Jun had to walk with Ninomiya chained by his side. They were arranged side-to-side, surrounded by men on both sides who constantly took the opportunity to nudge them with their heavy guns and phasers in case they walked too slow for their liking. Jun supposed he better get used to the rough handling.  
  
On the other side of the tunnel was a biting cold, the hissing rush of unrepentant winter. From the looks of their surroundings, snow must have only begun to fall a few days before their arrival. The men leading them didn’t look affected; they were accustomed to the weather. But for Jun, who hailed from a planet that never saw winter, the cold was almost too much.  
  
“Too much for your delicate skin?” the man beside him asked before nudging him with his phaser. “You Saiphans are so fragile. No Saiphan defector could possibly survive here.”  
  
Jun thought if he lived, he’d not only prove these men wrong but also Rina who had sentenced him to die as an unknown man.  
  
Jun couldn’t say a word in response and he merely looked on, wishing he’d been provided with thicker boots. The ground wasn’t heavily buried in snow, but the wind was unforgiving and seeping through Jun’s thin and cheap clothing. He could feel gooseflesh sprouting from where the wind had kissed his skin.  
  
He trudged onward, up a hill that overlooked the spaceport. There were domes atop the hill, a makeshift military camp of sorts. But the clearing was surrounded by a withering wall of unpolished ore, and the sight of it had confirmed Jun’s earlier assumptions. These men were working in stealth, protected by signal-blocking minerals as they went about their business. There were dozens of ships parked down the hill, and Jun realized he’d walked past them without recognizing them for what they were.  
  
They kept walking. Night was falling, and looking up revealed unfamiliar constellations. Hamal only had one moon, and it emitted a faint glow behind a thickening formation of clouds. The moon served as their only light until they reached the entrance of the camp. He vaguely heard conversations before they were permitted entry; they’d placed Jun at the back of the line because he understood their language.  
  
“The less this one knows,” the leader had said, pointing to him, “the better for us.”  
  
The camp didn’t look like much of a camp, which Jun supposed was the intention behind its design. There were a dozen domes which all appeared identical, and if there was indeed an armory in here somewhere, they made sure outsiders wouldn’t be able to locate it so easily. The domes were evenly spaced, arranged neatly in a semi-circle around a larger dome. If Jun were to venture a guess, that was where the leader was taking them to report to his superior.  
  
The leader stopped in the middle of the road and faced his men. “Get Ninomiya and his silver tongue of a friend here, as well as the Denebian defectors. Put the pirates at the end of the line.”  
  
The men murmured their assent, and Jun was shoved forward. He threw a glare to the man who kept nudging him with his phaser and saw him smirk and return his gaze, as if daring him to do something about it.  
  
The leader looked at Ninomiya. “If I tell him we have you, he might be less angry to deal with,” he said in the common tongue.  
  
Jun saw Ninomiya trying to smirk through the gag. What he said next came out garbled, but Jun could make sense of it.  
  
The leader couldn’t. He looked at Jun, and with a nod to one of his men, ordered Jun’s gag to be removed. Jun relaxed his jaw the moment it was off, moistening his drying lips. His teeth were close to chattering if they didn’t enter a dome in the next moment.  
  
“What did he say?” the leader asked him, this time in Hamali.  
  
Jun shot a glance at Ninomiya, who kept the smile on his face. “He said, ‘Shall we tell your superior the part where you threatened to surrender me to the high prison? Would that make him angrier?’”  
  
The leader said nothing but in the next moment, Ninomiya’s head was flying to the side. One of the men had jammed the butt of his phaser into his cheek for his audacity. The leader shook his head once, and the man backed off.  
  
Ninomiya straightened once more and attempted to flash the same self-satisfied smirk.  
  
“Don’t remove that gag until he says so,” the leader told his men, who all nodded. Jun’s gag was slipped back on, and they proceeded to enter the largest dome in the camp.  
  
The doors swooshed open after the leader provided identification to the console. What was revealed behind the doors was nothing different from a base. There were star charts predicting trajectories and star maps in pads that were scattered on top of desks. There was a disassembled plasma gun on one corner, and there were notes and observations attached to each part that was removed. Ahead, there was a hologram of a blueprint of the gates of Saiph—the only reminder of home now that Jun was so far from it.  
  
“You’re late,” a voice said. He stood behind the hologram, his face hidden from view by intersecting lines and sharp angles of blue and white.  
  
“The ship was late,” the leader said. “We’ve been waiting for the drop-off since morning.”  
  
“For the wrong drop-off, I’d say,” the voice said. “You’re not bringing in ten men.”  
  
“The handlers delivered the wrong information,” the leader said. He tilted his head, and Jun found himself getting shoved forward along with Ninomiya. “We only got six men, but among the six was this one.”  
  
“Which one, the Saiphan or the smaller one next to him?” the voice asked. Jun noted that he’d said Saiphan with great distaste.  
  
Here was Jun’s first enemy, someone with obvious hatred for his planet and its inhabitants. If this man ordered him killed out of hate, no one would even call it out. Instead it would be treated as justice served.  
  
“The smaller one. This is Ninomiya Kazunari.”  
  
Jun heard a hum pass the floating image of the gates. “And how reliable is that information? You claimed, Aiba-chan, that the handlers gave you the wrong information. This could be a pickpocket from the sewers of Tauri posing as the most wanted swindler in the galaxy.”  
  
The leader—Aiba bristled. “He answered to Ninomiya.” Aiba was simple-minded and honest, and Jun could see him tapping his foot in a nervous gesture. “I checked their profiles. They all clicked. The number we were promised was the only thing that didn’t.”  
  
“Is that so.” Jun heard movement, and the hologram was turned off. What he saw past it made him wish they’d turn it back on.  
  
No. It couldn’t be him. How did Rina find a way to send him to this man, the man whom his father, a renowned diplomat, had found so distasteful to speak to that he’d never allowed Jun to have a similar experience? If anything, this was the one person in the galaxy who hated Jun’s bloodline the most; the abduction of their Crown Princess had dealt them a blow they’d never recovered from, and the planet was sent to the dwindling economy that it suffered from now.  
  
Jun never imagined that the day he’d find himself standing before Emperor Apparent Sho would also be the day he’d been imprisoned, chucked in with criminals, and gagged.  
  
“And this one?” Sho asked, lifting a curious eyebrow at him. “Assuming this is Ninomiya, who is this? Ninomiya’s apprentice?” His eyes narrowed in thought. Jun had only seen him in holograms before this. Sho was only slightly shorter than him but smaller in build. He had unruly eyebrows and a button nose, with eyes that appeared too calculating. He was dressed in similar clothing to Aiba minus the cloak, but upon closer inspection, Jun noticed that Sho’s clothes were made of finer material. There was a ring on his finger that had his family’s crest—a clear indication of his status. “I don’t see why he is gagged unless he poses a similar threat to Ninomiya.”  
  
“He can speak Hamali,” Aiba said. Jun saw Sho consider that information. “Fluently. Like a native.”  
  
“I know what fluently means,” Sho said dismissively. He nodded to the man who’d kept nudging Jun from earlier. “Remove the gag.”  
  
“Highness, this one might be acting with Ninomiya,” the man warned. “If we remove the gag and they’re conspiring, Ninomiya might—”  
  
“Remove the gag, soldier, or I’ll see it put on you the next time you refuse to follow a direct command,” Sho said.  
  
The man straightened at that and mumbled a quick apology before doing as he was told. The momentary relief was overshadowed by fear; Sho was studying his face. They’d never met, but Jun was certain that if one person in this camp knew his face, it was Sakurai Sho and his entire bloodline.  
  
“What’s his name, Aiba-chan?” Sho asked.  
  
“He shares a name with the dead Crown Prince, Matsumoto Jun,” Aiba said.  
  
“Does he?” Sho asked, his tone flat. “And how did you know Crown Prince Jun is dead?”  
  
“He told me,” Aiba said.  
  
Sho faced Jun. “Is that true?”  
  
“Which part?” Jun asked. He heard movement, and he was aware that the men surrounding them tightened their grip on their guns. He’d just spoken to the Emperor Apparent as if they were equals. Men loyal to Sho had undoubtedly taken offense.  
  
“The name first, followed by the news you brought. Well?” Sho asked, unaffected by Jun’s cheek. Jun couldn’t pick up anything from his tone. It was nothing different from Ninomiya’s disinterested voice from earlier.  
  
“It’s all true,” Jun said.  
  
“How did he die?” Sho asked.  
  
“He didn’t see it coming,” Jun said, which was the truth. He felt Sho study him.  
  
“So Saiph is now ruled by a usurper and a possible murderess,” Sho said. “How fitting for a planet of thieves, schemers, and broken promises.”  
  
Jun kept his temper in check. He focused on the conversation so far, the exchange of words he’d just had with Sho. Was it possible Sho hadn’t recognized him? From what Jun remembered, his father had dealt with all the attempts at parley with Hamal. His face would only be known by the Hamali through records and news, and his father had valued privacy. Any hologram of Jun in circulation would have to be from when he’d been inaugurated as Heir Apparent, which had been thirteen years ago.  
  
He could recall how he’d looked like at twenty, twenty-one. He’d been thin and bony, the royal garb dwarfing him despite being tailored for him. He had hair that went past his shoulders, and he looked so much like Rina at first glance.  
  
He had shorter hair now, and he was slightly larger in build compared to Sho. Gone was the pale, frail-looking prince from more than a decade ago.  
  
He searched Sho’s eyes for any confirmation of his identity but came up short. He’d only been in Sho’s presence for minutes. If he had his guard up, surely Sho had his, too, despite manning an entire base by himself.  
  
“Nothing to say?” Sho asked. “I thought Saiphans were loyal to the royal family.”  
  
“Not when the royal family sent me here,” Jun said. It was another truth.  
  
Sho extended a hand to Aiba, and Aiba handed over his pad. “You should replace this,” Sho said, flicking through files. “It takes a while for the information to load. Doesn’t that inconvenience you?”  
  
“It does,” Aiba said. “But I’m attached to that, Highness. I made it myself.”  
  
“Then make yourself another one,” Sho told him. “We have better materials now. The shipment from Arietis has finally arrived.”  
  
That sent a ripple of relief through the men. Jun only knew of Arietis as one of the biggest mining cities of Hamal. If one of those mining cities was working hand-in-hand with Sho, it was possible that Ninomiya had been correct in his assumption that Hamal was preparing for war.  
  
Jun looked at Sho and found Sho staring at him.  
  
“Your profile says you’re a traitor,” Sho said. “A deserter and a traitor. Not surprising since you’re a Saiphan. Every inhabitant of that planet has the same inclinations.” Sho faced him once more. “What made you run?”  
  
“I didn’t run,” Jun said before he could help it. He’d accept any accusations, except for being a coward. He’d rather die than be branded as one.  
  
“How did they catch and deliver you to a ship that is falling apart so quickly it barely made the hyperspace jump here in one piece?”  
  
“I made an enemy of the royal family.” It was the only thing he could think of. “This was my punishment. Serving among men who are like me.”  
  
Sho regarded him. “I need men with experience. You don’t seem to fall under that.” He circled Jun and Jun stilled when he felt Sho’s fingers on his palms behind his back. His wrists were still in chains, but he closed his hands to a fist on reflex. “Your hands don’t have calluses.”  
  
“Surely you’ve heard of gloves? Or do they not exist here?” Jun asked. It earned him the butt of a phaser, nothing too different from Ninomiya. In the corner of his eye, he caught Ninomiya’s shoulders shaking in amusement. “Wouldn’t be surprising since this is almost a backwater planet.”  
  
The man on his side lifted his weapon again, but Jun caught Sho shaking his head, causing the man to reluctantly lower it.  
  
“That’s enough, soldier,” Sho said. “If taunts as juvenile as that are all it takes to rile you up, perhaps you’re all unfit for the war to come.” He gave a nod, and two men held Jun as one slipped the gag back on to him. “Nobody removes the gag on this one unless I say so.”  
  
“Yes, Highness,” Aiba said. Then he blinked. “How will he eat?”  
  
“If he behaves, he can eat,” Sho said. He stepped in front of Ninomiya, did a quick scan of Ninomiya’s information on the pad, and turned all of his attention to the man before him. “Remove the gag.”  
  
The man beside Ninomiya did, and Ninomiya took a few seconds of flexing and relaxing his jaw. Then he met Sho’s eyes and smiled.  
  
“Didn’t think I’d meet an emperor-to-be,” Ninomiya said in common tongue.  
  
“Didn’t think I’d meet a renowned outlaw,” Sho replied in common tongue. He spoke with evident ease, the syllables rolling swiftly on his tongue. He seemed better at speaking compared to Jun. “How did you get captured? You’re an enemy of all royal families out there, even mine.”  
  
“Except I never dealt with you Hamali because you have no money to give,” Ninomiya said. The only reason he hadn’t earned a slap for that was that nobody understood what he was saying, save for Jun, Sho, and Aiba.  
  
Aiba, who’d taken offense but stood down at the slightest shake of Sho’s head.  
  
“Or so I thought,” Ninomiya continued. “Expanding your horizons, future emperor? Funding a war? Do you plan to be a conqueror?”  
  
Sho hummed. “How good are you at flying?”  
  
Ninomiya smiled at the obvious disregard for his questions and taunts. “Better than this goon on your payroll that you put beside me, I’d wager. Bet you I’m even better than him at shooting a plasma gun and actually hitting the target.”  
  
“Only a fool would hand you a gun, Ninomiya,” Aiba said. At Sho lifting a hand, he bowed. “Apologies, Highness. But this is why I had him gagged.”  
  
“Doesn’t explain why you had the enemy of the royalty gagged as well,” Sho pointed out, not giving Jun a glance. “Unless they’re working together.” He looked at Ninomiya. “Are you?”  
  
Ninomiya shrugged. “Does it matter? His tongue is the only good thing about him, and that wasn’t enough to save him.”  
  
“Save him? A curious notion,” Sho said. “Enlighten me.”  
  
Ninomiya stared at Sho, and Jun saw the first trace of skepticism in Ninomiya. Like Jun, Ninomiya had no idea what worked in the machineries of Sho’s mind. To the unwitting observer, Emperor Apparent Sho knew the right words to say at the right time. But there was something behind his words, because like Jun, he must have been trained to not give anything away in front of an enemy, to choose his words carefully.  
  
“He’s here,” Ninomiya said. “Doesn’t matter that he can speak your tongue and all other tongues in different star systems—he’s chained and gagged just like me. If we’re working together, wouldn’t you say our scheme has marvelously failed?”  
  
Sho said no more, appearing deep in thought. The next time he spoke, he directed it to Aiba after nodding to a soldier who had fastened Ninomiya’s gag back into place. “I want these two imprisoned together but separated from the rest,” he said in Hamali.  
  
“Matsumoto and Ninomiya?” Aiba asked. Sho nodded. “Why? Beg pardon, Highness, but wouldn’t it be better if they were kept separate? What if they are indeed accomplices?”  
  
“Accomplices or not, they can’t communicate unless you remove the gags,” Sho pointed out.  
  
He seemed amused as he added, “Let’s see what the swindler and the enemy of the royalty can do when they can’t talk their way out of a problem.”  
  
\--  
  
Emperor Apparent Sho’s definition of a problem was holding Jun and Ninomiya in a dark, dank, and dirty cell surrounded by unpolished ores. The ceiling was ten feet high, the corner equipped with what seemed to be a surveillance camera. There was a rusting steel door about a foot thick that separated them from the rest of the camp. Whether their companions had been placed in similar cages or given leave to familiarize themselves in their new surroundings, Jun had no idea.  
  
The gags were still on. Aiba and his men at least had the decency to bind their hands in front of them, and Jun thought he’d seen something close to an apology in Aiba’s eyes as he’d locked the iron cuffs back in place. Jun had already spent the first hour of being stuck in this cell by tinkering with the gag around his mouth. It had a locking mechanism that would only open with the proper authentication, and it had taken Jun multiple tries before he’d eventually given up and taken a seat in the corner.  
  
The walls were the only sources of relief. Unlike Saiph’s dungeons, the ores hadn’t been stacked on top of the other. They had instead been hammered into sheets. Upon touch, they still possessed a rough, grainy texture—proof of their mostly unaltered state. But they’d been designed so the prisoner could at least rest his back against them, and not on the floor where the cold seeped through.  
  
Jun heard a crash to his far right, and he turned to his only companion. Ninomiya had taken refuge in the corner where the light source was, taking most of the heat for himself. Jun saw Ninomiya looking at him.  
  
He blinked in question. They couldn’t do much; Sakurai Sho had ensured that their best assets couldn’t be utilized.  
  
Ninomiya’s fingers were moving, and it took Jun a moment to understand that he was speaking in the language of the outer rim—the wordless common tongue, the language of thieves. Jun, in his youth, had asked one of his personal tutors to study the signs for each word and teach it to him in order to prepare himself in court.  
  
He never imagined it’d be put to use not in the middle of the palace hall surrounded by his councilors, but in the heart of an enemy base surrounded by a race who’d sworn to hate his.  
  
_He said something about your hands,_  Ninomiya was telling him. From the looks of his finger movements, he was very adept in the language.  _What was that?_  
  
Jun met Ninomiya’s gaze before relenting, hands moving slower to show his resignation. He didn’t want to speak the language of outlaws, but what choice did he have?  _That I don’t have calluses on them._  
  
Ninomiya tilted his head, and somehow, Jun could tell he was smiling behind the gag.  _Guess I’m not the only one skeptical of your origins, Saiphan._  
  
Jun didn’t deign that with a response. He looked ahead of him, at least until Ninomiya made another sound by banging his cuffs against the wall.  
  
_Were you a noble?_  Ninomiya asked. Noble or royalty were words Jun couldn’t differentiate very well, given that they required a similar twist of the wrist.  
  
_“Were?”_  Jun repeated in sign.  
  
Ninomiya’s amusement reached his eyes, leaving them glinting even under scarce light.  _Something tells me you were telling the truth when you told our dear Emperor Apparent that you were an enemy of the Saiphan royal family._  
  
_You were listening in,_  Jun told him. It wasn’t accusatory, and he pronated his arm to say so.  _I thought you didn’t speak Hamali._  
  
_Speaking is different from understanding a little. Now you’re speaking in my tongue,_  Ninomiya said.  _Or at least in the tongue of those like me. You weren’t just a man in Saiph._  
  
Jun stilled upon understanding that it hadn’t been posted as a question.  
  
_You were somebody else. Someone important, perhaps,_  Ninomiya continued.  
  
They both heard the doors unlocking, with Ninomiya jumping a bit in place in surprise, but he eventually focused back on Jun.  
  
_The question is, who were you, really?_  Ninomiya said, and he lowered his hands just in time for Aiba not to be suspicious of anything as he crossed the threshold.  
  
Aiba was out of his tattered cloak and worn out tunic. He wore a thick mining coat, his hair adorned with little snowflakes. He didn’t smile as he did a sweep with his eyes, and seeing nothing amiss, he tilted his head to his men in a wordless command.  
  
One man stepped forward and placed a platter of food five paces away from Jun. He did the same on Ninomiya’s side before stepping back and resuming his former position behind Aiba.  
  
“His Highness would like to know,” Aiba began in the common tongue, and Jun’s attention shifted to him, “what you two were talking about earlier.”  
  
Jun found himself exchanging a look with Ninomiya, who turned back to Aiba and pointed to the gag. Ninomiya gave a shrug when Aiba’s eyes narrowed, and after what seemed to be a moment of contemplation on Aiba’s part, Aiba nodded to his men.  
  
The men approached them cautiously, but they weren’t so careful when they held Jun down to remove the gag. Jun didn’t bother to struggle, instead choosing to give the men his coldest glare for their rough handling. He’d been handled without care since he’d left his home planet. The fight was almost out of him at this point—he was hungry and exhausted and freezing.  
  
They let him be after, and Jun settled for moistening his lips and exercising his jaw. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Tell His Highness that on my planet, translators are treated as guests.” He looked around for show. “And that the quarters he has graciously provided are in poor condition. Is this what hospitality means for the Hamali?”  
  
There was movement in the corner of Jun’s eye, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was Ninomiya hunched over in laughter.  
  
His remark earned him Aiba’s frown and disapproving look. “You’re not a guest. Neither of you are. You’re here because I don’t trust you not to start fights among my men.”  
  
“Unless your men have money, I’m not going to fight them for anything,” Ninomiya said, picking up a piece of bread from his platter and eating.  
  
Aiba gave Jun a look that told him it wasn’t Ninomiya Aiba was particularly bothered about. It was him, and from the look on Aiba’s face, Jun could tell that the Emperor Apparent had thought the same.  
  
He decided to imitate Ninomiya and not utter a word. His throat was rebelling against him; he reached for the cup of water and welcomed its rush down his throat.  
  
“More,” Ninomiya said, raising his cup.  
  
Aiba gestured to one of his men who refilled it. When he spoke, he was looking at Jun. “His Highness is not heartless.”  
  
“Not that heartless,” Jun said. His cup was refilled too, without him asking for it.  
  
“You have a full minute to answer His Highness’ inquiry,” Aiba said authoritatively.  
  
“If he’s that curious, tell him to come and have a chat with his prisoners,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“A chat,” said Sho. Jun didn’t even notice him arrive; he’d been hidden by the bulky coats worn by Aiba’s men, who were also taller than Sho in stature. How long had he been in there? “Very well. You seem to have mistaken my lieutenant for an errand boy.”  
  
“You keep sending him to do the dirty work; I was wondering if you’d ask him to scrub the floors next,” Ninomiya said. If he was surprised by the arrival of the Emperor Apparent, he didn’t show it.  
  
Sho stepped forward, an unsettling presence in the dark cell. He walked like a royal and dressed like one—his coat had the crest of the royal family and was made of a fine, silk-like material. He wore no armor, so confident was he that he would be safe even in the presence of an outlaw and a Saiphan.  
  
“I see you and Ninomiya found a way to solve the language barrier problem,” Sho said to Jun. “Is that what the Saiphan royal family has for its enemies? A common thief?”  
  
Jun opted not to reply, at least not verbally. He gestured with his hand, knowing Sho couldn’t understand it. A few paces away, Ninomiya laughed.  
  
“You would have me ask what my distinguished guest said just now,” Sho said to Ninomiya.  
  
“Tell you what, princeling,” Ninomiya said, and Jun watched him pay no mind to Aiba reaching for his phaser, “normally I’d lie about these things, but I’ll translate that for you to repay your generosity. He said, ‘What Saiph treats as outlaws, Hamal embraces as brothers.’”  
  
Jun’s oldest tutor had often said that to him. A Hamali would be insulted upon hearing it, his tutor had claimed. He could see the effect the words had on Aiba and his men, the barely concealed rage on their faces.  
  
Sho quirked an eyebrow at Jun. His features were calm, almost expressionless if it weren’t for the eyebrow. They stared at one another, until Sho faced his side.  
  
“Lieutenant,” Sho said, and Aiba saluted him at once, “we have no need for the gags anymore. And have two of your soldiers bring these men coats. The solstice has begun sooner than we all thought.”  
  
Jun could see Aiba’s surprise and confusion at the order. “Coats, Highness?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho said. Aiba gestured to his men, and two of them departed at once. “We wouldn’t want them to be cold.”  
  
He looked at Jun as he continued, “Not if they’re to remain here for long.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few warnings: this part contains xenophobia, and Yoko (of Kanjani8) might be hateful for now as well as Sho. The injury tag applies, but the scene that has it involves only a mild injury.

Days passed. The only concept of time Jun had was the rise and fall of temperature in his surroundings. At first he couldn’t tell; Saiph had no winter and Hamal’s winter morning didn’t seem different from its evenings. But Ninomiya taught him how.  
  
Jun spent the first few days observing Ninomiya’s habits; it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. The man kept a routine: sleeping at the same hour, in the same position with the coat provided to him wrapped tight around his curled body like a makeshift blanket, and woke up at the same time, just before Aiba’s men arrived to bring them breakfast.  
  
For all the scathing remarks Jun had thrown the Emperor Apparent’s way, he still received meals thrice a day. Meals in this camp consisted of a cup of water (refillable upon request, but he and Ninomiya were only permitted one refill per meal), crusty bread, a small slice of cheese, and edible flora indigenous to Hamal that Jun couldn’t recognize.  
  
He ate all of it and left his plate spotless every time. Food was food, and despite his hatred for Sho’s ill treatment of his prison, Sho made sure he was fed. Jun and Ninomiya were no longer visited by Sho after Jun had insulted him, and Ninomiya’s questions to Aiba’s men regarding the Emperor Apparent’s presence had been rebuffed.  
  
It was late into the evening when he heard Ninomiya stir from his sleep. Jun could hear Ninomiya’s breathing turning shallow, and when he listened carefully, he heard it.  
  
Someone was approaching the doors.  
  
Jun sat up in moments, pressing his back flat against the wall. He had nothing but a thin coat that barely kept him warm, but the least he could do was to make sure no one could stand behind him should this prove to be an ambush.  
  
If he died here tonight, no one would even know. But Jun swore he wouldn’t die without fighting back.  
  
In his periphery, Ninomiya was also sitting up, except he still had his coat draped on his lap. It kept his hands hidden, which Jun assumed was the point. If Ninomiya had a weapon with him, he could bring a man down with it before their visitor was even aware.  
  
The doors swooshed open, the overhead lights turning on with it despite their constant flickering. Behind the faint smoke, Jun recognized the Emperor Apparent, his strides perfectly paced as he stepped inside. He wore a cloak that ran down his shins, held together at the middle by a badge that had the crest of the royal family.  
  
“Ninomiya,” Sho said, “I would rather you lowered your weapon.”  
  
“If you knew I had one, why didn’t you take it?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
“I was wondering when you’d use it. You’re a smart man; you know that if you stab me here, right now, you’d be dead within five steps from this door.” Sho smiled. “Even if you remember the way you came through, your cell is still thirty-six meters away from the exit.”  
  
Jun watched as Ninomiya pulled his hands out, spreading them on top of his coat. Whatever he held underneath the coat, he seemed to have set it aside.  
  
“After days of deflections from your men regarding your whereabouts, what warranted us your exalted presence now, princeling?” Ninomiya asked with a smile. “We were sleeping.”  
  
“You were,” Sho said. “Your companion wasn’t.” He didn’t look at Jun. “I have decided where to put you. You said you were a better marksman than most of the men I have under my service.”  
  
Ninomiya was smirking now. “You would trust me with a phaser or any kind of gun and believe I won’t shoot you or your men any chance I get?”  
  
Sho hummed. “A curious thought. No, but it has been a cause of frustration on my part that I couldn’t put you to best use and still have to keep you alive by feeding you regularly. Thinking about it, it was either making a bet with your tongue or your skills with a gun, and I made my choice.”  
  
A choice that didn’t make sense to Jun. He found himself sharing Ninomiya’s thoughts on the matter.  
  
“What makes you think I won’t shoot your men during target practice?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
“Oh, I think you will try,” Sho said. “I expect it. But that’s not up to me. Stand, tuck away your knife, and report to the garrison. These men will escort you.” He gestured behind him with a wave of his hand. “My captain will handle the rest and show you the artillery.”  
  
To his men, Sho said, “The knife remains with him.” It earned a chorus of affirmatives.  
  
Ninomiya spent a few seconds sitting still before he stood and did what was asked. Jun watched him walk, and he passed by Sho without causing any incident. Jun watched him get led around by two soldiers after they’d cuffed him.  
  
He kept watching until they turned a corner, and he found Sho looking at him.  
  
“You didn’t make them take his knife,” Jun said.  
  
“You didn’t even know he had a knife,” Sho said.  
  
“I’m not the one he threatened to use it on.”  
  
Sho considered that, tilting his head. “He seemed attached to it. Perhaps it was a reminder of home for him. I won’t take something like that.”  
  
“If you decided what to do with him, have you also decided on what to do with me?” Jun asked. “If you made a bet on his marksmanship, do you think you can bet on my oral skills?”  
  
“No,” Sho said. “I don’t need a silver tongue to make men pilot spacecrafts and fire guns.” He stepped fully into Jun’s view, and every bit about him spoke of noble birth. Had Jun also moved like that in his home planet? He’d had tutors who’d taught him proper decorum and conduct. “You’ve offered me nothing but insults since your arrival and yet still ate off my hand like a common dog.”  
  
“You treated us like dogs by feeding us scraps,” Jun said.  
  
Sho’s eyes narrowed. “That’s food for soldiers and scraps for those who can afford more.” Jun’s blood went cold, and he willed himself not to give anything away. He was aware he acted as he was accustomed to, like someone of high status. “You’re not a soldier, you’re not a trader either. Yet you are a traitor and a deserter, and as of this moment, nothing but a decorative prisoner.”  
  
“Decorative?” Jun repeated.  
  
“The men take fancy in pretty faces,” Sho said. “Isn’t it fortunate that I allowed Ninomiya to keep his knife? That way, no one would even look in his direction.”  
  
Jun straightened from his slouch; he could no longer relax. It made sense since most of the men in this camp were recruited outlaws. Thieves, mercenaries, pirates, swindlers. But Jun had been naïve to think that was the least of their crimes.  
  
“You wouldn’t,” Jun said.  
  
“Wouldn’t what?” Sho asked.  
  
“You wouldn’t allow such depravity to exist in your base.”  
  
“Now you hold me in high regard? After all the insults?”  
  
Jun studied Sho—his cleanly shaven face, his pristine clothes, the snowflakes stuck in his hair. “My insults are not sufficient enough to truly get under your skin.”  
  
If they were, Jun would have known it. He would have been punished more severely, perhaps killed for his insolence instead of being kept locked away.  
  
“You’re right, I don’t allow it,” Sho said. “I condone it, in fact. Anyone caught doing something illicit and depraved will be sent to the high prison on my authority. But I don’t know everything that goes on in here, certainly not on how the men choose to spend their time when the day’s work is over.”  
  
“Does that amuse you?” Jun asked. “The idea that you would allow me to interact with these men, to see how I fare amongst them? Is there a bet between my side and Ninomiya’s, on which of us would last longer?”  
  
Sho regarded him, brown eyes that had nothing but contempt in them. “There is a bet. Among the men. Word has gone out that I kept two prisoners in here, a cell I never found use for until you two came along. And with Ninomiya now part of my retinue, you can imagine how that imbalances the odds on your side.”  
  
“I’m not helping anyone win a wager,” Jun said. “If I survive in your camp, I did it for myself. Do what you will with me, but if you’re thinking you can make me part of your men, you’re wrong.”  
  
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Sho said. “You see, these men, despite their varied origins, are soldiers.” He waved his hand in a gesture, and past his shoulder, Jun could see a few men standing guard past the door. “Soldiers die when they’re told. You’re not a soldier, because whoever sent you here intended for you to die and you didn’t.”  
  
Rina had always said he was stubborn.  
  
“Not yet, at least,” Jun said.  
  
“Not if I can help it,” Sho acknowledged.  
  
Jun frowned. “You would allow your planet’s sworn enemy to mingle with your men?”  
  
“I would allow you to leave this cell, yes,” Sho said.  
  
“Why?” Jun asked. It wasn’t the kind of bet Jun would have made had he been in Sho’s position. If things were reversed and he had Sho for a prisoner, he would hold Sho hostage until the Hamali begged for his release. Then he’d ask for a treaty to seal the peace, to end a century-long animosity between their planets.  
  
“It’s not the worst idea I’ve entertained and acted upon in the past month,” Sho said.  
  
“And what is?” Jun asked.  
  
“Letting my sworn enemy live in the first place,” Sho said. “Report to Aiba’s sentry. It’s time you earn your stay.”  
  
\--  
  
Aiba’s sentry was located at the coldest part of the base, at the edge of the hilltop facing the spaceport Jun remembered leaving. He had cuffs on his wrists that Aiba ordered to be removed before Aiba gestured to one of his men, the one who made fun of Aiba’s pad and its inability to do its purpose.  
  
“Matsumoto,” Aiba said, eyeing him with distrust, “this is Ikuta. Whatever he asks you to do, you do it. The only things you’re not allowed to do are to see the artillery, pilot one of the spacecrafts, and do guard duty on your own.” Aiba spoke in pure Hamali, and he looked at Ikuta. “If anything happens to him or he starts trouble, you answer to His Highness.”  
  
Ikuta looked displeased. He was wearing similar clothes to Aiba’s: a thick coat, boots that ran up to his knees, and thick gloves made of leather. “I’m not a babysitter.” At Aiba’s quirking eyebrow, he added, “Sir.”  
  
“You are now,” Aiba told him. “Per His Highness’ orders.”  
  
“With all due respect, Lieutenant,” Ikuta said, “is he that important? The men said he was a deserter.”  
  
“He’s important because His Highness declared me personally responsible should anything happen to him,” Aiba said. “And now I’m declaring _you_ personally responsible because nobody else is free and I don’t trust Kazama with him.”  
  
“No one would trust that guy,” Ikuta said. He gave Jun a disgruntled look before tilting his head. “Come along, VIP.”  
  
Jun followed, and they left Aiba’s settlement, which was a small dome located beside the entrance to the base. The harsh wind from the mainland struck Jun, and he barely suppressed a shiver as he trudged beside Ikuta. Their feet left bootprints on the snow, and Jun found himself glancing behind every now and then.  
  
The last time he’d seen snow, it had been at one of his personal getaways. He’d flown his personal spaceship to one moon in Rigel, a popular tourist campsite. He’d enjoyed his time there, witnessing the formation of icicles for the first time.  
  
Strange that he experienced snow again in a camp but one of a very different nature.  
  
“So,” Ikuta said, when they were far enough from Aiba’s settlement, “are you the Emperor Apparent’s new lover?”  
  
Jun nearly tripped, snow crunching under his boot. “What?!”  
  
Ikuta didn’t look bothered by Jun’s sudden surprise and subsequent anger. He just kept walking. “There has to be a reason why you’re top priority.”  
  
“I’m not,” Jun said, horrified. “Not top priority nor his lover.”  
  
Jun thought he had to be mad if he ever considered bedding Sho, the one man in the galaxy who hated him, his family, his home planet. Sworn enemy was the term they’d equally used for one another. The very idea of sharing Sho’s bed made him shudder.  
  
And if he factored in that he was the Crown Prince of Saiph, the idea of engaging in a sexual relationship with Hamal’s Emperor Apparent was entirely unfathomable.  
  
“Well that just sent some of the speculations straight down the drain,” Ikuta said. He sounded disappointed. “They were thinking either you or the other guy—the big-time wanted swindler, I mean—captured the Emperor Apparent’s attention, hence the special treatment you got for a couple of weeks.”  
  
Special treatment? Jun had been made to stay in a cold cell that left his limbs numb and teeth chattering during the night. Ninomiya had taken the heater for himself. Jun was sure a few more days in that cell would have given him frostbite.  
  
“We were kept prisoner,” Jun said. “Your Emperor Apparent is not very hospitable.”  
  
“You’re the only one he sent to the prison cells after getting here; it got some of the men thinking.”  
  
“Some?” Jun repeated. “Not including you?”  
  
“Oh I’m more of a pragmatist,” Ikuta told him, sounding amused. “That’s why I asked.”  
  
“Well now you have something to share at the breakfast table,” Jun said. He didn’t share Ikuta’s amusement.  
  
“I never believed either of you were his lovers, anyway,” Ikuta said. “He’s royalty. I find it impossible that he’d roll in bed with people below him. Besides, the Emperor Apparent never took a lover.”  
  
Jun frowned at that. He’d been Crown Prince before he got sent here. As Crown Prince, he’d been the recipient of numerous offers since he’d come of age. He’d slept with a few and had his fair share of flings and short-lived romances. It wasn’t a prince’s job to stay celibate but he had to make sure he bedded the right people: the ones who wouldn’t brag about the experience, those who genuinely valued him, and those who sincerely enjoyed his company. He didn’t do it for political advancement. He’d done it for the simple pleasure of making love to another.  
  
He couldn’t imagine Sho never having a lover.  
  
“He must have had one,” Jun said. While he’d rather speak about other matters than Sho’s romantic history, it was better than Ikuta making speculations about where Jun had come from. “Or multiple, for all you know.”  
  
“There were rumors,” Ikuta told him. “But nothing of substance came out of it. Of course, no one out here thinks he’s a virgin; he must have someone back in the capital. Some pretty prince or princess from an allied planet or a lady or a gentleman of the court. But nothing’s been proven, and so far he’s turned down any potential arrangements and all of his suitors.”  
  
“This is what this camp does to pass the time? Exchange court gossip over a crackling fire?”  
  
“The royal family has been subject to gossip since the Empress Apparent eloped with the Saiphan prince,” Ikuta said. “Personally, I find that feud to be nonsense given how much time has passed since then, but we Hamali are traditional people.”  
  
“I noticed,” Jun told him. The Hamali’s customs spoke of a culture that had its roots buried deep into millennia of history. Jun could remember his history lessons, albeit vaguely. “You must hate me, then.”  
  
“Hate?” Ikuta snorted. “No, it’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’m indifferent to you, Matsumoto. You’re my responsibility, and that’s the only reason I care about you. But if you decide to desert again, I’ll only come after you if the lieutenant or His Highness himself tells me to. If you kill yourself out of despair regarding your situation, I will be annoyed because it will inconvenience me and give me additional work, which would be explaining to the lieutenant why you suddenly dropped dead.” He stopped walking and faced Jun. “To put it simply, don’t give me any trouble.”  
  
“And if trouble finds me first?” Jun asked. “You might be the only Hamali in this camp who doesn’t hate me. I’ve seen the looks thrown at me since I left my cell.”  
  
“If trouble finds you first, you’ll be seeing that cell again,” Ikuta said. He resumed walking, and Jun saw that they were headed for a dome located at the other end of the gates. Smaller than Aiba’s settlement but towering just the same. Jun could make out two figures guarding its entrance. “I don’t play favorites, Matsumoto. But I’m loyal to my planet and its citizens.”  
  
“And its Empress?” Jun supplied.  
  
Ikuta looked thoughtful. Then the moment passed, and Ikuta waved a dismissive hand to the two guards who eyed Jun with distrust.  
  
“Trouble seems to find you wherever you go,” Ikuta said once they were inside. It was a storage dome divided into separate areas, and Jun was led to the one that housed whatever suitable clothes were available to them.  
  
Jun looked around, seeing clothes worn by the Hamali. When Rina had him thrown in that handler’s spaceship, she had him wear Saiphan merchant clothes. Now he felt suffocated with the only option he was given: to remove the remaining traces of home from his person.  
  
“I think it will bring me more trouble if I opted to wear your people’s clothing,” Jun said.  
  
Ikuta had his arms crossed over his chest, his weight leaning against the wall. He didn’t appear to be on his guard around Jun, perhaps discerning early on that Jun had an idea how futile an attempt to escape was going to be. “I think you don’t have a choice. Whatever you choose to wear, you’ll be courting danger.”  
  
Jun clutched at his tattered tunic beneath his coat before resigning himself, shrugging off the coat and shedding the rest of his clothes. The heater in this dome worked perfectly, and yet Jun felt so exposed, like he was losing his own skin and identity.  
  
He’d done it. What his fake profile said about him—traitor, deserter—he’d become it.  
  
“May I have a moment?” Jun asked, his hands fisted on the Hamali clothing provided for him. Now that he was naked, the gravity of his situation sunk in.  
  
He was truly alone in a planet that had nothing but hostility for his kind.  
  
He was, for all intents and purposes, considered dead by any Saiphan.  
  
“You can turn around and show me your back instead of your face,” Ikuta said. “That’s your moment.”  
  
Left with no other option, Jun bared his back and let out a breath, the only sign of vulnerability he allowed himself to show since Rina had betrayed him. His chest felt tight, and he held himself back from shedding any tears.  
  
What made Rina do what she’d done? How did she come to hate Jun so? Jun could remember himself hiding behind her skirts when other children in the court didn’t want to play with him. She’d protected him.  
  
Jun slipped on the tunic, the foreign material only reminding him of how far he was from home. He didn’t know if he’d make it back there. He put on the rest, had laced his boots and slipped on his coat once more.  
  
He felt like somebody else. Like Matsumoto Jun of Saiph had been dying and this was what had snuffed out the very last of his existence in the end.  
  
When Jun turned to present himself, he was alone.  
  
\--  
  
Ikuta put him into hard labor the following morning. Jun had been allowed to procure a sleeping bag of his own and Ikuta had him sleep in the storage dome to avoid any possible altercations with the rest of the men for the time being. The recruited outlaws went to the garrison and were the captain’s responsibility—whoever he might be—leaving Aiba’s sentry composed entirely of Hamali.  
  
It’s time to earn your stay, Sho had said.  
  
Jun was sent to deliver spacecraft parts to the port shipyard after he’d confirmed that he did know how to dismantle and assemble the parts back together. The men Ikuta had assigned with him had nothing but hatred on their faces, something Ikuta had noticed early on.  
  
“He had the swindler keep his knife,” Jun had said, when Ikuta had led him past the disgruntled men. Jun had no weapon to defend himself.  
  
“You have something better than a knife,” Ikuta had replied.  
  
And to the rest of the men that had gathered, Ikuta had said, “No one touches him.” They all had looked disappointed with the order. “Whoever does answers to me, to the lieutenant, and to His Highness. I can assure you, I will be the mildest you have to deal with should that happen.”  
  
For all their dislike for Jun, the men proved to be adept at following orders. No one outright bullied him, but they did give Jun the heaviest parts to lift after discovering that his hands had no calluses. They made sure he’d blister and be left sore come the night, that he’d ache all over the following morning because of the lack of a medicinal salve.  
  
At lunch, they’d given Jun the same kind of food he’d endured in the prison cell, and Jun had to eat while trying his best to ignore the disdainful looks thrown his way. He kept to himself and did his work, and when evening came, Ikuta returned and took one good look at him.  
  
“They made you carry the thruster parts,” Ikuta concluded.  
  
Jun didn’t respond.  
  
“On your own,” Ikuta added.  
  
Jun looked straight at Ikuta. “Will there be anything else?”  
  
“Remove your gloves,” Ikuta said.  
  
Jun hesitated. Doing so would have the leather scrape against his blisters, and he’d been enduring the pain well all this time.  
  
“That’s an order, Matsumoto.”  
  
Jun carefully took off his gloves, revealing the blisters that lined his knuckles, the sides of his hands, the surfaces of his palms. They looked less erythematous with the cold weather constricting his capillaries, but come tomorrow morning, Jun was certain he’d reopen the wounds again.  
  
“Of course, when I told them you’re untouchable, they found a way to make you hurt yourself,” Ikuta said, the corner of his mouth curled in a scowl. “You don’t get blisters like that unless you’ve been stubborn enough to actually do what they told you to do.”  
  
“With all due respect, sir,” Jun said, “you entrusted my fate to them.”  
  
“Kazama was at the shipyard today,” Ikuta told him. It was a name Jun only heard for the second time. “He’s the foreman. If the men were abusing you, you should have told him.”  
  
“I can fight my own battles,” Jun said.  
  
“With stubbornness?” Ikuta asked. “Yes, and this is what that got you.” His scowl deepened. “Put the gloves back on and come with me.”  
  
“Where?” Jun asked, but he followed Ikuta anyway. Of all the men in this camp, Ikuta was the only one who had a semblance of concern for his wellbeing. Not out of genuine kindness, Jun knew, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Ikuta didn’t respond, and they walked to a dome that seemed similar to the size of the storage dome. Upon entering, Jun was hit with a whiff that he’d only associated in infirmaries.  
  
“Bringing in another idiot?” a man asked, and Jun assumed he was the physician in this base.  
  
“This camp has no shortage of them,” Ikuta said, and he pushed Jun onward with little grace.  
  
The way the physician looked at him was full of interest, a far cry from the usual looks Jun had been getting since he’d arrived here. “Ah, the Emperor Apparent’s new lover?”  
  
“I’m not,” Jun said immediately.  
  
The physician looked at Ikuta, who shrugged.  
  
“He says he’s not,” Ikuta said.  
  
“And? What brings you here?” the physician asked, looking at Jun. “Injured yourself?  
  
“I’m fine,” Jun said.  
  
“Toma doesn’t bring men here unless they’re dying,” the physician said. “Or unless he’s going to be scolded and he wants me to do something about it.”  
  
Jun’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Ikuta. “Have I been summoned?”  
  
“We’re keeping His Highness waiting, Okada-kun,” Ikuta said, ignoring Jun’s query. “If you can patch up his hands and whatever other parts he ended up injuring, we’ll get going.”  
  
Okada tilted his head, and Jun followed him. Jun was made to sit on a stool, his gloves carefully removed as his blisters got tended to with some kind of salve that smelled too much like rusting metal.  
  
“That stuff works?” Jun asked. In Saiph, they relied on high-end technology to tend to wounds and treat diseases. No one in Saiph used salves anymore; they went out of circulation a few years back in the advent of the dermal regenerator.  
  
“Did you expect a regenerator?” Okada asked. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m saving that for graver injuries, not for small cuts that’ll only inconvenience His Highness once you share his bed.”  
  
“I don’t share his bed,” Jun said, annoyed.  
  
“That’s the first sign of emotion I’ve seen on your face since you entered my settlement, Saiphan,” Okada told him. He finished up bandaging Jun’s hands and gave Jun the jar of salve. “Use when necessary. I don’t think you’ll have it easy, and when you run out, come back for more.”  
  
“I thought you had a shortage of medicinal supplies,” Jun said, standing and making his way back to where Ikuta was waiting.  
  
“Not of salves,” Okada said. “Your people like reminding us that we’re beneath you. So where else did you think your planet chucked all the salves you produced that went unsold when you adopted the regenerator?”  
  
\--  
  
They had to report first to Aiba who escorted them to Sho’s settlement, and this time, the holograms were turned off and Sho was sitting on a stool with a pad in his hands. He didn’t look up despite their presence, but did give Aiba an acknowledging wave of his hand.  
  
“How do you like my camp?” Sho asked, not looking away from what he was reading.  
  
“Nothing different from your prison,” Jun said.  
  
“You stand out in those clothes,” Sho said, glancing at him. “Has no one hit him today?”  
  
“None to my knowledge,” Ikuta said.  
  
“Pity,” Sho said. “I was under the impression you’d get punched on your first day. No one likes a smart mouth to go with a pretty face. It’s just one or the other.”  
  
“I think he’ll last a week, at least,” Ikuta said.  
  
Sho looked at Ikuta. “Do you now?”  
  
Ikuta shrugged. “He does what he’s told.”  
  
Sho smiled. “Like a dog.”  
  
Jun could feel the familiar heat of anger rising in him, but he trampled it down. It would be petty to engage after such a cheap taunt.  
  
“What did you make him do today?” Sho asked, and Ikuta answered the question as thoroughly as he could. Jun noticed that Ikuta had left out the visit at the infirmary, as well as his discovery of Jun’s blisters.  
  
“Who’s in charge of the shipyard?” Sho asked, directing it to Aiba.  
  
“Kazama,” Aiba said. “He reports directly to me, though.”  
  
Sho straightened in his seat, studying Jun. “And you did not receive a single report from Kazama on any unjust treatment in the shipyard today?”  
  
Aiba appeared confused. “None, Highness.”  
  
Sho looked contemplative, then he tilted his chin at Aiba and Ikuta. “Leave us.”  
  
Aiba didn’t agree with that order, a hand already resting on the holster that held his phaser. “Begging your pardon, Highness, but I don’t think that’s wise. He—”  
  
“—won’t try to take me hostage in order to escape,” Sho finished confidently.  
  
“I’m afraid we don’t know that, Highness. We can’t risk it,” Aiba said authoritatively, and it earned him a look from Sho.  
  
“But he does know that,” Sho said, gesturing at Jun. “Don’t you? You know that there’s no point in taking me hostage and hijacking a spacecraft to take you away from here.”  
  
Jun held Sho’s gaze, and he shut his eyes in acceptance.  
  
He knew. The idea had crossed his mind, but he knew it’d all be for nothing.  
  
After all, he had no home to go back to.  
  
“Leave us,” Sho said again.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, Aiba and Ikuta obeyed, bowing in reverence before striding out. Jun didn’t miss Aiba’s look of warning directed at him as the lieutenant departed.  
  
Jun faced Sho once more, and the feeling was something Jun couldn’t explain. He’d felt safer in the shipyard today, surrounded by men who outwardly hated him and made him do all the heavy lifting.  
  
Sho was just one man, and yet Jun felt he was suddenly tossed in a gladiator’s arena with a lion, a custom he’d read about in the Old World.  
  
“You didn’t complain about the ill treatment you went through today,” Sho said. “Tell me why.”  
  
“It would have achieved nothing,” Jun replied.  
  
“Kazama is a good man, a just man.”  
  
“And he’s a Hamali and I’m a Saiphan.”  
  
That won him one of Sho’s smiles, a small quirk of the angle of his lips. “You’re learning. It’s only been a day out there, and you already know how you fare against my men.”  
  
Sho had put him alongside the men most loyal to the royal family. Jun knew he had no chances against any of those. He didn’t have to be the Crown Prince to know that. He simply had to be born in Saiph.  
  
“Did Toma bring you to Okada before this?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun was a second too late in hiding the flicker of emotion on his face.  
  
“Well? Let’s see what Okada had to patch up,” Sho said.  
  
“No,” Jun said.  
  
“No?” Sho asked.  
  
“You’ve humiliated me enough since I came here,” Jun said. “Allow me to keep my wounds to myself. If you’re as honorable as your title suggests, you’d grant me this.”  
  
“And why would I grant you anything, Saiphan?” Sho asked. “I don’t owe you anything.”  
  
“You don’t, that’s true,” Jun acknowledged. “But I refuse all the same.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You’re not my Emperor and I’m not your servant,” Jun told him.  
  
Sho merely stared at him, something akin to curiosity on his face. For a brief moment, he didn’t speak.  
  
“Do you know what your eyes are telling me right now, Saiphan? What they always told me since you first arrived here?” Sho asked. “That you will not submit. You will not waver, you will not beg, and you will not be put on your knees. You have the eyes of a fighter and not those of a deserter, and something tells me that they only managed to send you here after they crippled you greatly enough that you couldn’t stand back up.”  
  
Jun held his ground, keeping his hands fisted on his sides. It made the bandages compress his wounds, but the momentary pain was something he could focus on.  
  
“It makes me wonder who got so close to you that they were able to put you in my hands,” Sho said. “Was it a family member? A lover? A trading partner, perhaps? Or a confidante?”  
  
Jun directed his eyes past Sho, unable to look at him. The truth was right between them. But Jun couldn’t say it. Everyone in Hamal knew the names of the Saiphan royal family. It was bad enough that Jun got delivered to Hamal with his name unchanged. He only got lucky it was a name common enough in Saiph since his planet had celebrated the time of his birth and had honored him by naming newborns at the time after him.  
  
“Nothing to say?” Sho asked.  
  
“I...transgressed against the Crown Princess,” Jun said.  
  
“The usurper,” Sho said. “Yes, you’ve told me this before, that you made an enemy of the royal family. But for that to be possible, there had to be someone you trusted. Someone who utterly broke you enough that they got past your defenses and left you to die here.”  
  
Jun shut his eyes briefly, reopened them and leveled Sho’s gaze with his own.  
  
“But you won’t,” Sho said, sounding convinced of it. “No, you will want to make things difficult for me, just as I am making them difficult for you. You won’t die because the longer you live, the longer it inconveniences me. You won’t hand me that kind of satisfaction, not after discovering that you can survive a shipyard full of Hamali and stand on your feet before me to refuse a direct order.”  
  
Jun felt an understanding fall between them, the unspoken acknowledgement of Jun’s stubbornness and unwillingness to back down without a fight.  
  
“You’re the one who ordered Aiba to not have your men harm me,” Jun said.  
  
“Is that what they told you? That you have my favor acting as your shield against my men?”  
  
“You don’t favor me,” Jun said. “But you don’t want me to die either.”  
  
“Oh no,” Sho said in disappointment, “it’s not that. I couldn’t care any less if you died. In fact, I want you to, because that will give me a small victory against the sworn enemy of my people. But no, you’ve been given my protection because if you die, I don’t want it to be on the hands of my men who seek swift justice.”  
  
Jun stood in place, finally understanding. It made him sick in his stomach.  
  
“You see now?” Sho asked with a smile that Jun now knew to be deceptive. “If you die here, I want it to be long and excruciating, the kind that eats you from the inside. I want it to be slow, because quick hurt will barely register.” He looked at Jun’s hands that remained clenched into fists at Jun’s sides. “You don’t have my favor; you have my attention.”  
  
Sho’s smile this time showed off his teeth. “And you will find that you were better off fooling yourself that what you have is the former.”  
  
\--  
  
In the week that came, Jun became more of an errand boy than a shipyard worker. He was given the most difficult and time-consuming tasks—from heavy lifting to satellite fixing in the middle of the night. Sho’s men had no regard whether Jun froze himself to death or his fingers had numbed that he couldn’t hook the wires in their proper places. All they cared about was if the Saiphan deserved the day’s meal.  
  
The portions of food he’d gotten were comparatively smaller, but Jun uttered no complaint. He still stayed in the storage dome as per Ikuta’s orders, and the solitude was something he welcomed. At night, with all the work and the unfairness behind him and saved for tomorrow, he could think. He could pretend he was still in his home planet, that his father the king still lived, and he was slated to assume the throne come a few months. He could delude himself that he wasn’t in a freezing hell of a planet, that he wasn’t surviving for the sake of proving something to his captor.  
  
When morning arrived, Jun would get up, leaving all his tattered dreams and aspirations behind.  
  
He lasted three and a half weeks until he found himself in an altercation. One of the shipyard workers, a vocal Hamali with a broken accent who downright hated Jun, messed up one of the spacecraft repairs and put the blame on Jun.  
  
Jun could ignore the scathing remarks, but an insult to his integrity was something he wouldn’t back down from.  
  
“You asked for those parts,” Jun said to the man. “I specifically asked if you were sure that those were the ones you wanted to use, and you said yes anyway.”  
  
“You brought me the wrong thing,” the man told him. “Because of you, we’re one spacecraft short, and dismantling this is going to take twice the time.”  
  
“Had you been paying attention to your job, you’d have noticed you asked for the wrong thing,” Jun told him.  
  
The man studied him. “You talk big since you’re under his protection. Is that it? You do dirty work here and serve him in his settlement after?”  
  
“I don’t lay with him,” Jun said. He lost count how many times he had to say it.  
  
The man didn’t appear to hear him. “That’s it. You’re his bitch, and you do everything he says. You crawled into his bed when your own planet didn’t want you. Well, wait for him to learn about this. I bet he’ll just cast you aside like your planet did to you.”  
  
Jun saw red then. Before he was able to land a punch, however, he received one on his right cheek that sent him stepping back. The disorientation lasted for a brief moment, and Jun felt his knuckle split when he managed to hit the man square in the jaw.  
  
It was all a blur by the time the other workers had them separated. Jun could feel his knuckles stinging, that parts of his face were bruised. He knew he looked similar to the man he’d just punched, but unlike him, Jun was still on his feet and could go for more.  
  
Back in his youth, he’d underwent a private training with his personal guard. When he’d come of age, he’d thought it’d be prudent if he learned how to defend himself, to fight like a trained bodyguard. He had been a fast learner, and he’d downed a couple of his own men in practice fights.  
  
Jun knew he looked like he had a fight in him, with the build that he had. But what the workers here had no idea was that he also possessed endurance aside from the skill, and that the absence of weapons on hand didn’t make him any less deadlier.  
  
“What’s happening here?” Kazama asked. Jun had met him on his third day, a man of a smaller stature and build. He never looked intimidating, and Jun suspected that the workers were doing as they were told not out of fear of Kazama, but of Aiba.  
  
“The Saiphan started it,” one of the men said.  
  
“Liar,” Jun said. “You protect your own even in the midst of a lie, but you all heard what he said.”  
  
“And what did he say?” Kazama asked, looking at Jun now.  
  
“That he was the Emperor Apparent’s bitch,” one of the men answered. “That he only found his way here after he climbed into the Emperor Apparent’s bed, because no Saiphan wanted him now that he was forced to lay with the enemy.”  
  
Kazama sighed. “You waste your time spreading rumors regarding the possible nonexistence of the Emperor Apparent’s supposed celibacy?”  
  
The men straightened at that.  
  
“You have work to do,” Kazama told them. “You’re here because the lieutenant thought you’d be perfect with getting our army ready should the time come for us to defend our own. And instead of doing what you’re supposed to do, you start fights that will only set us back.”  
  
“He brought me the wrong parts,” the man Jun had punched said. “The Saiphan is unfit to work with us.”  
  
“You asked for the wrong parts,” Jun told him. “I asked you if you were sure, and you didn’t listen to any of my concerns.”  
  
Everyone ignored him. “He’s not supposed to be here, foreman,” one of the men said. “He inspires unrest, and none of us are really comfortable with the idea of having our enemy so close by. How do we know he’s not a spy? He’s seeing all the intricate work here.”  
  
“First you accuse me of being incompetent that I had to lay with your future emperor in order to earn a place here,” Jun said, “and now you accuse me of being a spy. Decide which one is truly my crime, and settle it in the way you Hamali would.”  
  
“We don’t kill like your kind,” one of the men said. “You killed us when we wanted peace. And you will keep killing us because you don’t see us as people.” He looked at Kazama. “He breeds distrust here. He doesn’t belong here.”  
  
“He doesn’t belong anywhere,” Kazama said. “Not even his own planet wanted him.”  
  
“Doesn’t mean we have to make room for him,” a worker said. “We can’t progress as we should. We’re already delayed because of the wrong repair, and the longer he stays here, the more problems he’ll cause.”  
  
Kazama seemed to weigh his options. Jun stood there, seething at the injustice. Now more than ever, he felt that he was one man against an army with no allies, no reinforcements.  
  
I want it to be long and excruciating, Sho had said.  
  
“Matsumoto, you come with me,” Kazama said. “The rest of you, get back to work. Yoko, go to the infirmary, get some ice for your face.”  
  
Yoko, the one Jun had punched, scowled. “Okada’s just going to tell me there’s enough snow outside.”  
  
“Not my problem,” Kazama said. “Get back to work.” He looked at Jun, at Jun’s bruises and small cuts. “I’m starting to think Yoko had it worse than you did. Are you going to punch me for siding with my men?”  
  
“You did as predicted,” Jun said. “I don’t share your men’s habit of starting fights with people who can’t defend themselves.”  
  
“But you can defend yourself,” Kazama pointed out. He began walking, and Jun trudged behind him. “That’s something most of the men here probably haven’t considered since you spent weeks keeping to yourself even if they were outright bullying you.”  
  
“Your men taunt like children,” Jun said.  
  
“But they’re not the ones who got riled up after hearing the truth,” Kazama said.  
  
Jun remained silent, and soon he saw where Kazama was taking him.  
  
“You’re reporting to Aiba,” he said.  
  
“That’s Lieutenant Aiba to you,” Kazama said.  
  
Jun paid him no mind. “You’re reporting to him without dropping me off to infirmary.”  
  
“Your face is proof enough of what happened,” Kazama said. Jun wondered how big the bruises he sported were. “The lieutenant might want to check the security footage we have in the shipyard, but I think he’ll take my word for it after he sees you.”  
  
They reached Aiba’s settlement, and Aiba was standing behind a couple of holograms of infrastructures they were yet to build in the camp. He had a pad in his hands, and he frowned upon seeing Kazama with Jun, his expression darkening when he got a good look of Jun’s face.  
  
Ikuta happened to be there as well, and he and Aiba seemed to be conferring about something before they stopped and shifted their attention to Kazama.  
  
“Let me guess,” Ikuta said, “he delivered the first punch.”  
  
“Yoko did,” Kazama said.  
  
Aiba seemed surprised. “Yoko?”  
  
Ikuta was frowning. “Yoko’s a good fighter.” His eyes narrowed at Jun. “You knocked him out?”  
  
“Close,” Jun said.  
  
To his surprise, Ikuta grinned. “You see, Aiba-chan? This is why I think we’re wasting him by putting him in the shipyard.”  
  
“You told me he blistered his fingers on his first day,” Aiba said.  
  
“And he’s learned since then,” Ikuta said. “How was Yoko’s face, Kazama-kun? I look forward to seeing him at dinner tonight.”  
  
“Needed ice, perhaps a few stitches on his eyebrow,” Kazama said. He gestured to Jun. “He can’t remain under my watch any longer. The men don’t like it. I think some of them are afraid of him now after witnessing what he can do.”  
  
“I wouldn’t go berserk if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jun said. “I’m not an animal, despite your future emperor’s constant comparisons.”  
  
He caught Ikuta, Aiba, and Kazama exchanging looks.  
  
“Should we let the captain deal with him?” Kazama suggested.  
  
“His Highness put me in charge of him,” Aiba said. “If I pass the responsibility to somebody else, how do you think that will reflect on me?”  
  
“Not very well, but at least he’d be out of your hands,” Ikuta said.  
  
Aiba seemed to not like it, but even Jun understood that Ikuta had a point.  
  
“If we send him to the captain, he’ll make him hold a gun and nobody wants to see this man with a gun,” Kazama said. “Not after what happened today.”  
  
“What do you propose we do? He won’t blend in no matter where we put him. He starts fights just because of who he is,” Ikuta said to Aiba. “If you put him on guard duty, he might desert his post. Kazama doesn’t want him in the shipyard anymore.”  
  
Aiba looked at him. “What can you do, Matsumoto? Were you part of the Saiphan army?”  
  
“I had military training,” Jun said. He’d asked his personal guard to be as strict as possible with him, and it had all paid off. He was as good as them, and the only reason Jun hadn’t been able to fight his father’s soldiers back when Rina had betrayed him was that he’d been too out of sorts to fathom what had been happening.  
  
“So he can be a soldier and he also possesses a silver tongue,” Ikuta said.  
  
Aiba and Kazama both looked at Ikuta, and it was a staring match that lasted for a few seconds.  
  
Until Aiba said, flatly, “No.”  
  
“I think Toma has a point, Aiba-chan,” Kazama said.  
  
“No,” Aiba said again, this time shaking his head.  
  
“We all miss Nagase,” Ikuta said. “But it’s been months, and the Emperor Apparent’s at risk every day. From discovery, from failure, from an assassination.”  
  
“ _He’s a Saiphan_ ,” Aiba said, staring incredulously at his two men.  
  
“And he’s also someone with the proper training and the only one who lasted five minutes in a settlement with the Emperor Apparent without being verbally eviscerated,” Ikuta said. “We left them alone that night against your wishes, and not a hair on His Highness was harmed.”  
  
Jun had a feeling he knew what they had in mind, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk.  
  
“How do we know he wasn’t sent here to assassinate His Highness and is simply awaiting an opportunity like this?” Aiba asked.  
  
“I’m not the one who wants the enemy to die,” Jun said. They all turned to him. “If anyone wants someone to die, that’s your future emperor doing everything he can to make my life harder until I beg him for death.”  
  
“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Aiba asked, and he stepped in front of Jun. He was a few centimeters taller, and for the first time, Jun felt how imposing Aiba could be should he wish it. “You’re the sworn enemy of our people, you started a fight in the shipyard, and you insulted His Highness on multiple occasions. How do I know you don’t want him to die on your hands?”  
  
“I don’t intend to soil my hands with blood of the Hamali,” Jun said. He caught Ikuta and Kazama straightening at that, and Aiba frowned. “I don’t care if he’s going to be emperor someday.”  
  
Jun may have no love for Sho, but he wasn’t raised to be a traitor. Killing Sho would lead to nothing. An emperor-to-be’s death didn’t mean he’d be graciously welcomed back to his throne.  
  
His people thought he was dead. If he killed Sho and word reached Saiph, Rina would simply take credit for it to cement her claim, and it would leave Jun facing execution in the hands of his enemy.  
  
He was no fool. He knew that if he intended to survive and reclaim his birthright, he could only attain it with Sho alive. If Sho had to die at one point, it had to be at the right moment.  
  
Not now. Not soon.  
  
“If it’s any consolation, Aiba-chan, I think if one of them ends up dead, it’d be him,” Ikuta said.  
  
“Him, or the three of us,” Aiba said. “His Highness will have us killed.”  
  
“If he kills us, he loses his first lieutenant, his second lieutenant, and one of his sergeants. Don’t suppose his captain would like that very much,” Ikuta said. “We don’t have a lot of men we can trust.”  
  
“And you suggested we trust him,” Aiba said. “The Saiphan, of all people.”  
  
“I think he knows something we don’t,” Kazama said. He didn’t seem very observant, but Jun realized that was all a façade. “Something that makes him keep his cards close. Had the rest of shipyard workers joined in today, no matter how strong and capable he was, he would have still been brought down eventually.” Kazama spared him a glance. “He knew that.”  
  
“He told me he could fight his own battles,” Ikuta said.  
  
“This is another battle entirely,” Aiba said.  
  
“But that’s not for us to worry about,” Ikuta said. “He won’t lay a hand on His Highness.” Ikuta looked at Jun. “The very idea of it makes you shudder, doesn’t it?”  
  
Jun looked at the three men surrounding him. What kind of sick game was this? They were putting Jun right in the center of the lion’s den and making bets on whether he survives or not. “How do you know I won’t let him die? With everyone in this camp, there’s no other person who hates your emperor-to-be more than I do.”  
  
Aiba, Ikuta, and Kazama all looked at one another, and Jun saw Aiba shaking his head firmly.  
  
“No, and that’s final,” Aiba said, and when Ikuta opened his mouth again, Aiba reiterated, “I said no, Toma.”  
  
Ikuta stood down and inclined his head in apology.  
  
Aiba turned to Kazama. “Did the captain already return from the surveillance mission?”  
  
Kazama nodded. “They were delayed, but they made the trip back with only a few casualties.”  
  
“Few?” Aiba repeated.  
  
Kazama suddenly appeared grim. “We lost one ship.”  
  
Aiba nodded. “That’s few, considering how it could’ve played out.” To Ikuta, he said, “Take Matsumoto to the captain.”  
  
“His Highness won’t be pleased to know where you transferred him. You’re really trusting him to carry weapons?” Ikuta asked, but he already moved to guide Jun out of Aiba’s settlement.  
  
“Better that than your idea of entrusting him with the Emperor Apparent’s life,” Aiba said. “If he goes haywire and starts shooting people, at least his target is not our future ruler.”  
  
\--  
  
The garrison was located on the other edge of the camp, a half-finished wall of unpolished ore serving as its border. The captain of Sho’s camp was a man with a red cloak and wore a pair of goggles as he commanded the men to put their backs into whatever morning activity they’d been tasked to do. Ikuta drew attention with his approach; the men didn’t pause in their work, but Jun caught some of them glancing at the captain’s direction every now and then.  
  
Ikuta explained the recent development, and the captain simply nodded.  
  
“Matsumoto,” Ikuta said, “you’re no longer part of the lieutenant’s jurisdiction. If anything happens, you report to the captain now. Your days in the storage dome are also over; you sleep where the captain puts you.” Ikuta exchanged a nod with the captain. “He’s all yours, Ohno-kun.”  
  
Ikuta departed after, and Jun looked at Ohno, who appeared to study him.  
  
“You’re the talk of the camp,” Ohno said.  
  
“Whatever you heard, it’s not true,” Jun said. Whether he was a deserter or a traitor or the Emperor Apparent’s new lover, Jun was growing sick of it.  
  
“I’ve heard lots of things,” Ohno said. “But I think I’ll go see Yoko later to find out the truth. You look like you could use some ice for that cheek.”  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Jun said. If he tended to his cheek, he’d only give most of the men here a reason to put another bruise on it. Better for them to see that Jun already had one.  
  
Ohno stood, his cloak standing out in the surroundings of snow, and Jun saw the cybernetic red arm for the first time. Ohno had it hidden under his robe earlier, and while he was shorter in stature than Jun, the arm was intimidating.  
  
“Yeah,” Ohno said as he took in Jun’s expression, “it does that.” He waved his metal arm for emphasis before walking. “I’ll show you around so you’ll know where to go. Unlike Aiba-chan, I don’t have a Toma to help me around.”  
  
Jun followed Ohno around the camp, not making eye contact with any of the men as he did. Unlike Aiba’s sentry, this part of the camp didn’t have a storage dome that kept its goods segregated. It was one big dumpsite, and it looked like it wouldn’t change soon.  
  
“I usually send some men to tidy up in here,” Ohno said. “They treat it as a punishment. It’s mundane, unproductive work, sorting and sifting through this camp’s garbage. If you start a fight like you did today in the shipyard, you’ll find yourself here in no time.”  
  
The storage dome didn’t seem like much of a threat at first glance, but Jun had a feeling it housed the kind of work that would drive him mad since he wouldn’t see the end of it until Ohno was satisfied.  
  
Ohno kept leading him around, showing him the lines of tents where the men slept, a space found at the edge of the campsite where a barren field could be seen beyond.  
  
“Since the tents are small, I put two men in one. I’ll find someone I can saddle with you soon enough,” Ohno explained.  
  
“A former soldier?” Jun asked. “In case I’d try anything funny?”  
  
“Tempting,” Ohno said. “The word from Aiba’s sentry is that you’re not a team player. You’re an isolate, a man with no home who got provoked into hurting one of my own because he called out a truth. Was that hearsay?”  
  
Jun averted his gaze, and Ohno resumed walking. Ohno was a Hamali, and his loyalty, like every Hamali Jun had met in this camp, was to its people.  
  
“You have no allies here,” Ohno told him. “You’re the only Saiphan in this camp, and if you plan to stage a mutiny by rallying these criminals that now surround you, most of them have no love for your planet and its military, being the cause of their exile in the first place. Nothing too different from your case, I suppose.”  
  
“I don’t have a deathwish,” Jun said. The moment he opened his mouth in front of Ohno’s men, he’d be lucky if he could get a word out before one of them had his throat slit. The hatred for Saiphans was a trait the Hamali shared with almost any outlaw in the galaxy.  
  
Ohno stopped and faced him, a slight frown on his features. “Really? I would have assumed otherwise, with the way His Highness keeps baiting you into situations you can’t escape.”  
  
Jun stilled. He hadn’t seen it like that.  
  
“You seem surprised,” Ohno said. “You shouldn’t be. His Highness has been playing a long, drawn out game for years. He’s only gotten better at it as he got older.”  
  
Ohno continued walking without waiting for a response, and Jun trudged after him with the familiar feeling of resignation in his gut.  
  
\--  
  
Jun found himself drawing forth his military training as the days went on. As part of their training, Ohno’s men often had to run around the camp without their coats on, a test of their endurance against the growing cold that plagued the planet. The garrison was equipped with all kinds of weapons—from traditional blades to the contemporary sabers, an artillery of phasers and plasma guns that Jun wasn’t given permission to use.  
  
Jun had spent his first few days under Ohno’s watch being transferred to various tents given the men’s utter dislike for him. If Aiba’s sentry had resolved themselves with glares and scoffs, Ohno’s garrison of outlaws had no room for honor. Jun had experienced returning to his tent to find his sleeping bag upturned, his few belongings noticeably sifted through. The gloves he’d procured from Aiba’s sentry had been stolen on his third day, and he’d made do with the roll of bandages that he’d found in the storage dome.  
  
The cold became something he’d gotten used to the more he had to endure. His blisters from the shipyard had transformed into scabs, and peeling them away one by one revealed small pinkish scars. Jun no longer possessed the hands of a future monarch; he had the hands of a laborer, of someone who had to earn enough for the day to secure food on his plate.  
  
His body was starting to adapt to the harsh environment as well. The muscle pain only lasted for the first few weeks since Jun had to strain himself in order to keep up with everybody else. When he’d been falling behind, the men had seen it as an excuse to mock him, to take a portion of his food for themselves, claiming he hadn’t earned all of it. When he’d began to keep up, they had started to take him more seriously, no longer provoking him outright.  
  
Most of the time, Jun had to pretend that he was deaf. The men around him were outlaws, and slander was a common offense. They were men loyal to no one save themselves, their camaraderie only a matter of consequence given the similarities in their situations. Jun had heard all kinds of speculations about him—his crimes, his motives, his position in the camp. After the incident in the shipyard, he’d willed himself to act like he couldn’t hear a thing so as not to draw too much attention to himself.  
  
He was aware of the looks he’d been getting as of late. While Aiba’s sentry had nothing but disdain for him, the reception from Ohno’s garrison was mixed. Some eyed him with curiosity, others with contempt. Some appraised him like he was something to be had, and others stared at him as if they were sizing him up.  
  
He wondered how many of these men had an inkling as to his true identity. While he was certain he’d never seen most of them in the Saiphan court, still, he had been a public figure. Perhaps some of the looks he’d been garnering as of late were those trying to gauge his value.  
  
Jun was on his fifth week in Ohno’s garrison when he finally crossed paths with Ninomiya, who eyed him like they were old acquaintances. He was on inventory duty when Ninomiya turned up, asking about the progress.  
  
“Saiphan,” Ninomiya said in greeting, “we meet again.” He looked delighted.  
  
Jun noticed that Ninomiya had gained a bit of muscle since they’d last seen one another. “Master swindler,” he said in reply.  
  
Ninomiya smiled. “I’ve been looking for you since I heard that you got transferred here. They said you socked one of them in the face.”  
  
“It was provoked,” Jun said.  
  
“So it’s true,” Ninomiya said, grinning wider. “Some of the men don’t believe it. Most of the men here don’t; they think you are incapable of throwing a punch given how...delicate you appear to them.”  
  
“I’m delicate?” Jun asked, frowning.  
  
“That’s the impression you left when you were allowed to work in the camp while basking in the princeling’s favor,” Ninomiya said. “Speaking of the princeling, how is he?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Jun said. “I haven’t seen him in months.”  
  
“There’s talk among the men that he’s been leaving the camp more frequently,” Ninomiya told him. “Not that it’s surprising; I suppose even a backwater planet such as this still requires the presence of a future monarch in their state affairs.” Ninomiya looked at the pad in his hands and snorted. “The captain put you in inventory?”  
  
“He needed someone who can read and write in Hamali,” Jun said. “He told me the report is for the future emperor’s eyes.”  
  
Ninomiya smiled, in the lecherous manner that Jun had gotten used to whenever he’d mention the Emperor Apparent. “And you’re to personally report this to the princeling?”  
  
“I don’t tumble with him in his bed,” Jun said, annoyed. “You saw how he treated me when we got here.”  
  
“I saw how you provoked him, yes,” Ninomiya said. “I thought you were either very brave or incredibly stupid to hurl an insult to his face, but seeing as you’re still alive, I wonder which one is it.”  
  
Jun thought Sho was only keeping him alive for his amusement. Sho wanted to see how long he’d last. He was alive partly because he’d been stubborn enough to not choose death when it would’ve been the wiser choice.  
  
“I heard you punched the foreman,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“I didn’t,” Jun denied quickly. “It was another worker. Whatever you heard about that incident, it was embellished.”  
  
Ninomiya hummed. “And that went unpunished by the princeling? When you hurt one of his own? Aiba’s men consisted of the Hamali most loyal to the princeling.”  
  
Jun took note of Ninomiya’s complete lack of respect to the authority present in this camp. “This is the punishment.”  
  
“Inventory? Counting how many armors are there in the supply closet, whether or not they have enough ammo to fight an impending war?” Ninomiya scoffed. “Come now, you don’t think this is all there is to it. Each one of us under the captain’s authority knows why they sent you here.”  
  
Jun instinctively braced himself for an attack. To his knowledge, he was alone with Ninomiya in this section of the storage dome, but Ninomiya had been part of Ohno’s garrison far longer than Jun had. If Ninomiya had made friends, Jun had no idea who they might be.  
  
“And what’s that?” he asked anyway, despite being certain of the answer.  
  
“You hurt one of them, you’re as good as dead,” Ninomiya said. “They just don’t want to do the dirty work so they sent you here amongst us criminals. It’s only a matter of time, don’t you think?”  
  
“Have you come here to murder me?” Jun asked. Unlike the last time he’d been in a similar situation, he’d seen this one coming. He knew it would be soon.  
  
Ninomiya tilted his head. “No,” he said after a moment. “I’m not a killer. I steal, I cheat, I lie, but killing is another matter entirely. Just because I’m stuck in the camp of the losing side doesn’t mean I have to stoop so low.”  
  
“I didn’t take you for someone who has a sense of honor,” Jun admitted, a little surprised by Ninomiya’s answer.  
  
“Of course not,” Ninomiya said. He seemed amused. “You haven’t changed since we met, Saiphan. You still say what’s on your mind, and frankly, I’m surprised you only got into one fight despite having a mouth like that.”  
  
“I was goaded into throwing that punch,” Jun said.  
  
“You’ll be goaded into worse as the days go by,” Ninomiya said. “Consider that as your warning. I’m not your friend, but you did let me have the heater to myself at that time and didn’t utter a word of complaint. I don’t forget things like that.”  
  
“Like kindness, you mean?” Jun asked.  
  
“No, that wasn’t kindness,” Ninomiya said, shaking his head. “That was endurance. You’re a fighter, Matsumoto. I know a fighter when I see one.” He tilted his chin towards the pad in Jun’s hands. “The captain has been pestering me to find a partner among his men since their only suitable stealth ship here can’t fly without a co-pilot.”  
  
Jun stood there with the pad in his hands, waiting.  
  
“You can fly a ship manufactured by your own planet,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said anyway, despite Ninomiya not posing it as a question. He knew what kind of ship Ninomiya meant. Saiph was the pioneer in manufacturing state-of-the-art spaceships. A part of him was curious as to how Sho’s camp had managed to procure a Saiphan ship, given their people’s hatred for Jun’s.  
  
But not even their enemies could deny the excellence in their craftsmanship, Jun thought. If Sho wanted to win a war, he needed the best ships the galaxy had to offer. It was an unlikely thought, that someone like Sho would forsake his pride, but maybe he was fit to lead an army more than Jun had imagined him to be.  
  
Ninomiya grinned. “I’ll leave you to your inventory. I have to tell the captain that I found a partner. Unless you’re backing out?”  
  
“Why would I back out?” Jun asked. If Ohno approved of Ninomiya’s proposal, Jun would have his first chance at an escape if Ninomiya cooperated. He’d worry about it when he gets there.  
  
“Because it’s a suicide mission for you,” Ninomiya said. “We’re going to the capital. A Saiphan right in the middle of the enemy territory.” Ninomiya met his gaze. “I told you, I’m not your friend.”  
  
“Are you helping the Hamali orchestrate my murder?” Jun asked.  
  
“I’m being practical,” Ninomiya said. “I can fly a ship, but a high-class Saiphan ship is another matter. I need someone who knows the intricacies of that ship and can operate her with ease. You’re the best candidate, given your origin.”  
  
Jun couldn’t fault his logic. He doubted there’d be anyone in this camp who could operate a ship that advanced. He knew how because of privilege, because a prince like him was entitled to the fastest and most advanced ships on his planet. He doubted the ship in this camp was better than any of those he’d owned, though.  
  
Ninomiya was watching him, and Jun had to ask.  
  
“Why are we sneaking into this planet’s capital?” Jun asked. It didn’t make sense—none of it made sense, in fact. This camp warded off any signals thanks to the unpolished ores surrounding its area—it couldn’t be found by any tracking device no matter how advanced the technology might be. For all Jun knew, this camp was operating in secret, led by its future emperor.  
  
Ninomiya studied him, a slight furrow between his brows. Then he seemed to have understood something. “No one told you.”  
  
“No one told me what?” Jun almost sighed; no one tells him anything. That seemed to be the universal rule in this place: keep the Saiphan in the dark.  
  
“Who did you think the princeling was preparing to fight?” Ninomiya asked. “Your people?” He let out a chuckle. “You said it yourself on the day we got here: Hamal can’t sustain a war with your planet.”  
  
Jun straightened. His stomach twisted at the realization.  
  
“Don’t you see? Hamal is preparing to fight herself,” Ninomiya said, his gaze now somewhere distant. “The princeling is preparing for civil war.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little violence involving the death of unnamed OCs takes place in somewhere in this part.

Ninomiya left him to finish his inventory check, and when Jun visited Ohno to personally hand him the report, Ninomiya was there, tinkering with what seemed to be a cloaking device.  
  
“He’s got skilled hands,” Ohno said when he noticed Jun watching. “It’s why I keep him around despite the complaints about his foul mouth and quick hands.”  
  
“Thievery even in a camp of outlaws?” Jun asked curiously.  
  
“I call it being busy,” Ninomiya said. “The captain is against it, by the way. He thinks I shouldn’t bring you along and find someone else.”  
  
Jun turned to Ohno, who was picking at dirt stuck to his cybernetic arm. The color was still distracting; before Jun could see Ohno, he always looked at the arm first.  
  
“His Highness doesn’t know of this mission,” Ohno said, surprising Jun. “I had some suspicions which he dismissed the last time we talked about it. He told me not to do anything rash, and that was the last he wanted to know about it.”  
  
“Then why act on it despite his orders?” Jun asked. “He’s your superior. You would defy your future emperor?”  
  
“For his own safety? Yes,” Ohno said without hesitation. “He doesn’t think it’s possible. Which is why I’m acting on my own, with the help of Nino here.”  
  
Jun merely blinked at the familiarity in Ohno’s tone. Ninomiya had spent a longer time in this side of the camp than he did. If he’d made friends even with the captain, that was no longer Jun’s business.  
  
Jun cast a sideways glance in Ninomiya’s direction. The man kept tinkering with tiny gears and shifts, but there was a small smile on his face. He was listening in, like he often did back when Jun had shared a cell with him.  
  
“What exactly are you asking Ninomiya to do?” Jun asked. It was a better question than any other alternatives formulating in Jun’s mind. He had suspicions, but Ohno was proving to be harder to read than most Hamali Jun had met.  
  
With the exception of Sho, of course.  
  
“Intel,” Ohno replied. “It’s a surveillance job in the capital, in the royal palace. I’m under specific orders not to leave this camp in His Highness’ absence—”  
  
“He’s in the capital?” Jun asked. No wonder there hadn’t been any summonings that only served to mock Jun and where he was at present.  
  
Ohno didn’t look offended at the interruption. “He’s emperor-to-be. He has many places he ought to be in.”  
  
“Of course,” Jun said. He understood the responsibilities, the neverending duties. They had been his, once. There had been a time when he and Sho had belonged in the same world.  
  
Jun studied Ohno, at the far-off look in his eyes, and said, “You’re worried.”  
  
It won him a slight frown from Ohno. “The men at the shipyard implied you were rather dim-witted. But you’re proving them otherwise.”  
  
“Are you terrified of discovery?” Jun asked, ignoring Ohno’s blatant observation. He’d gotten accustomed to men here putting him down. He didn’t like it, but there was no point in answering back. It would just earn him a visit to Okada. “This camp operates in secret, with you and Aiba in charge in the event that the Emperor Apparent is somewhere else. Are you afraid this camp’s whereabouts will be discovered by the same people you’re rising to fight against?”  
  
“That’s only secondary to my worries,” Ohno said. Their gazes met. “Nino says he wants you because you know what to do and he claims you think on your feet.”  
  
The idea made Jun’s stomach turn. “You think there’s a traitor.” The camp was operating in secret, but Sho couldn’t be the only one in the palace who knew about its existence. An emperor-to-be was surrounded by people he trusted.  
  
“Sho-kun trusts his people. It’s an admirable thing about him, but he trusts blindly. He can recognize the signs of deception, but if it’s from someone close to him, he will dismiss it, treat it as mere paranoia.” Ohno looked angry now, his features hard. “More so when it’s family.”  
  
“So you asked Ninomiya to fly to the capital and collect intel? Act as your spy?” Jun asked. It would fail. Ninomiya may be street-smart, made sharp by the years he’d spent swindling people in the outer rim, but it would take a very convincing lie or disguise for them to enter the royal palace. Jun could see many holes in the plan—Sho had been right telling Ohno not to act rashly.  
  
Ohno didn’t appear to be aware of Jun’s concerns. “I asked Nino if he could fly a ship.”  
  
“To spy on the people in the Hamali court,” Jun said.  
  
“To take me there so I can watch over Sho-kun myself,” Ohno said.  
  
Jun took a second to hide his surprise at the display of loyalty from Ohno. He had no one like that. Back in Saiph, he had his family, his father the king, a half-sister who had lived in the outer moons. His mother had passed not long after Jun had been in line of the throne. He had no one but the people Rina had taken away from him.  
  
The rush of envy was difficult to ignore.  
  
“Nino told me he needed a co-pilot after I showed him the ship. You Saiphans make very complicated algorithms in the programs for your ships. They’re high-class, but it makes the ships difficult to pilot unless the person in the cockpit knew what he was doing.” Ohno’s eyes were hard on him. “You can pilot one, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” Jun said.  
  
“We risk drawing attention if I bring you along,” Ohno said.  
  
Jun cast a pointed look at Ohno’s metal arm. Combined with the long, flowing red cape, all the attention would definitely be on them.  
  
“But if you bring him along, captain, we’ll get there sooner,” Ninomiya said. He hadn’t looked up from what he was doing, still hunched over the cloaking device. “Just in time for you to watch over the precious princeling.”  
  
“He’s not a princeling,” Ohno said.  
  
Ninomiya only smiled, hands unscrewing small bolts. Something told Jun that this was a common occurrence between Ninomiya and the captain: Ohno would correct Ninomiya and his corrections would all be ignored.  
  
“What if he doesn’t leave the ship?” Ninomiya suggested. “You don’t need manpower; you just need pilots. We park the ship somewhere close to the palace, you go do whatever you think you need to do.”  
  
Ohno studied Jun for a long moment, almost enough for Jun to feel self-conscious.  
  
“He’s really not the one you should be worried about,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“If you two escape, Sho-kun will have my head,” Ohno said.  
  
“Assuming he still possesses a head,” Ninomiya pointed out. “Do you think we’ll try to escape?”  
  
“Yes,” Ohno answered. “Only a fool wouldn’t see that as an opportunity.”  
  
Jun averted his eyes. If he tried to escape, there’d be nothing for him. He was a dead man with no home, no family, no birthright. He only had a name, and he shared it with a dead future monarch, branded as a traitor and a coward for all he knew.  
  
There was nothing left for him. If his last stand was going to be helping a man get to the heart of his enemy’s territory to save a friend, he wouldn’t mind it. If Ninomiya proposed an escape, he’d likely turn it down. He had nowhere to go and no one wanted him back.  
  
“I won’t run off,” Ninomiya declared. It made Jun whip his head to stare at the man in shock. “I won’t,” Ninomiya repeated at the look on Ohno’s face. “And that’s only because I know that if I do, the bounty on me will be activated again, and it’ll be such a short life of freedom. I’ll be behind bars in the high prison before the week is up.”  
  
Ohno was silent for a couple of minutes. He looked older with the goggles set on of his forehead. When he spoke next, he was looking at Jun. “And you? I still don’t understand why you agreed to this. You’re a Saiphan, and you have to be mad to willingly go to the capital of the planet that hates your kind the most.”  
  
“Then you have your answer,” Jun said. If he died, that was that. It had been months in this camp, and it was only sheer stubbornness that was keeping Jun alive. He wasn’t a quitter, but remembering that his own sister had betrayed him and had murdered their father made things harder to bear.  
  
“What’s in it for you?” Ohno asked. “You want to die? After weeks of surviving here, of standing against men who tried to rob you, goad you, you choose to die like this?”  
  
“It’s happened to me before,” Jun said. Ohno was frowning in confusion, and Ninomiya was intently listening despite not looking at Jun directly. “I know how it feels.”  
  
An understanding crossed Ohno’s features. “I never asked how you found yourself here.”  
  
“I trusted blindly,” Jun said. It was all he could admit.  
  
“You have no love for my future ruler,” Ohno said.  
  
“That’s true,” Jun affirmed. “But I’m not so sick that I would wish for anyone to experience what I have.”  
  
Silence fell among them, with Jun trying to not remember that night. It still hurt. He never knew what he’d done for Rina to hate him so.  
  
“We leave tonight,” Ohno said suddenly. “Meet me in the clearing at the edge of the camp. I’ll make sure it’s abandoned. You’ll find the ship there. You get her ready and wait for me. You’re dismissed, both of you.”  
  
Ninomiya smiled triumphantly, shooting Ohno a rather cheeky salute. He stood, the cloaking device reassembled, the tools he’d used arranged neatly beside it. He left then, and Jun found himself watching Ohno for a moment.  
  
Ohno looked at him questioningly.  
  
“You never trusted me,” Jun said. “Not from day one. Why the change of heart?”  
  
“Our people always saw you as merciless, bloodthirsty murderers who had no regard for family,” Ohno said. “But I’ve never thought they could do it to their own.”  
  
“Are you feeling sympathy for me, captain?”  
  
Ohno regarded him for a moment.  
  
“Yes,” Ohno said, turning away. “Every man should have a place to belong.”  
  
He waved his hand, and Jun left.  
  
\--  
  
He and Ninomiya slipped away separately, with Ninomiya telling him he should head off first. It was dinner and the men were tired from the day’s work, but nobody was complaining. The drills were particularly harsh today, with Ohno firing off commands and telling his men to move it when the pace got too slow for his preference. Jun had perspired despite the cold weather, had felt the familiar ache in his muscles when he’d put his back into it.  
  
Jun reached the clearing after going around the camp, past the storage domes that nobody watched except for their entrance. The men on patrol were from Aiba’s sentry, but they had been wrapped up in tales from their side of the camp that they’d hardly noticed Jun when he’d come past them. It hadn’t been easy, but Jun had kept his footsteps light, his movements unhurried. Ohno had been teaching them that since Jun had gotten transferred.  
  
The ship was old. Not rotting but old, her paint darkened by use. If she’d been purchased, Jun presumed she was secondhand, for he’d handled better, newer models. There was a lever instead of a console beside her hatch that should prompt for an identity, and Jun was able to slip inside the ship without any difficulties.  
  
He powered it on and activated the cloaking before starting his inspection. It was his habit, to check the ship’s provisions before its departure, and he wasn’t surprised to find it moderately stocked. Enough to last them a week at most.  
  
Ohno’s absence for an entire week would surely be noticed, but that wasn’t for Jun to worry about. His job was to take the captain to the capital, nothing more.  
  
He was seated in the cockpit when he heard footsteps, and looking over his shoulder revealed Ninomiya.  
  
Ninomiya took a seat on the co-pilot’s chair, making himself comfortable before he spoke. “He didn’t think you’d be nice.”  
  
Jun frowned. “What?”  
  
“The captain,” Ninomiya said. “He looked genuinely surprised when you gave him your reason earlier.”  
  
“I meant it,” Jun said.  
  
“I know you did,” Ninomiya told him. “We go way back, Matsumoto. From a dilapidated handler ship to a semi-decent one.” He patted on the console in front of him for emphasis. “Soon we’ll be flying fighter crafts.”  
  
“If the war happens,” Jun pointed out.  
  
“It’s happening already,” Ninomiya said. “What sort of captain leaves his camp for his king? He has other fears he’s not telling us.”  
  
Jun shrugged. “Not my business to know.”  
  
“That’s your flaw right there,” Ninomiya said, pointing at him. “You don’t think it’s your business. You don’t pry, you don’t ask unless the matter involves you.”  
  
“It’s not my war we’re fighting,” Jun said.  
  
“You’re part of this even if you tell yourself otherwise. You’ve been part of it since you came here, since he put us in that cell together, since you refused to translate for him the language of the outlaws.” Ninomiya regarded him. “If he wins this war, he’ll be fighting your planet next.”  
  
“He will lose,” Jun said. “If he wins against his own planet, he will lose against mine.”  
  
“We’ll get to that if he wins,” Ninomiya said. “But we’re part of this now, you and I, and maybe it’s time for you to ask the right questions instead of playing safe. You’re no longer a mere survivor here; you’re starting to become a participant.”  
  
“Thanks to you.”  
  
“You have your uses, Saiphan. I admit that the princeling is smarter than me because it never made sense before why he kept you alive despite your constant defiance. But now I get it, and that’s partly the reason why I want to see how he’ll participate in this war.”  
  
“He kept me alive because it amuses him,” Jun said. “There’s no other reason for it. I’m his form of entertainment when he’s so far from his court that he can’t call on the palace jester.”  
  
Ninomiya smiled. “Maybe, maybe not. I still think there’s more to this, Matsumoto. I have to agree you’re entertaining, but there’s got to be more to it. He’s keeping you alive for a reason.”  
  
“We’ll never be privy to that,” Jun said. “Not when he’ll have us all killed as soon as he discovers what we’re about to do.”  
  
“The captain is as interesting as the man he’s loyal to, won’t you agree?” Ninomiya let out a laugh. “I never dealt with Hamali before, but the way they think is pretty straightforward; it’s both predictable and amusing.”  
  
Straightforward? That made Jun frown. He could understand Ohno’s reasons. Even Aiba, Ikuta, Kazama, and the one they called Yoko had done things that were justifiable upon consideration.  
  
There was only one Hamali Jun couldn’t figure out, and he was also the one Ohno was desperately trying to protect. From what, Jun didn’t know. But perhaps the Hamali court was a pit of vipers.  
  
Ohno had been right: Jun had to be mad to willingly step foot in all this.  
  
They heard the thudding of boots against the metal floor not long after, and Ninomiya straightened in his seat, making it look like they weren’t conversing about Ohno’s intentions a moment ago. When Jun turned, Ohno had dressed down, his red cape replaced by a duller beige, and he’d worn a long tunic to cover most of his metal arm.  
  
Jun was dressed in a similar manner, in a coat that barely kept him warm, with a tattered tunic that would soon fail in covering him up. He’d been growing in build since he’d gotten transferred to Ohno’s garrison, and the material of his tunic was already stretching around his shoulders and arms.  
  
Ohno carried a pack with him, one that he held under his arm.  
  
“I trust you didn’t come across one of Aiba-chan’s on your way here?” Ohno asked.  
  
Jun shook his head just as Ninomiya laughed.  
  
Of the two of them, Jun always thought it would be Ninomiya who’d get punched first because of how cheeky he was. Odd that it had been him in a shipyard instead of Ninomiya in a garrison full of men who had no honor.  
  
Taking Ninomiya’s answer for a yes, Ohno nodded to him. “Nino, you told me you can navigate.”  
  
“You will have to tell me exactly where the drop-off point is,” Ninomiya said. “I don’t know the territory. This is your home court.”  
  
“We have to hide the ship, so it’ll be best to put her on the side of the cliffs,” Ohno said. Jun recalled that the royal palace of Hamal was situated atop a high cliff that consisted of lime- and sandstone, its walls carved out of the same rock infused with marble to make it sturdier. It made the palace shine under the sunlight, an eyecatcher despite the state of the planet it was found in.  
  
Jun thought it was fitting in a planet where looks could be deceiving. Ohno hadn’t looked like it, but here he was, disobeying a direct order because he had believed otherwise.  
  
“From there,” Ohno continued, “I’m on my own. Guard the ship.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell us that,” Ninomiya said. “Setting course.” Ninomiya manned his side of the console with adept hands, and at his nod, Jun reassessed the coordinates and took the ship to the sky.  
  
The constellations found in Hamal were foreign to Jun, and for a moment, it was easy to pretend that he was simply in one of his leisure trips around their territory. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the outer moons, the pleasure planetoids. He’d been to so many of them, a luxury he once could afford.  
  
“At this speed I expect us to be there in four hours,” Ohno told them. His voice sent Jun back to reality, and Jun looked at his calloused palms and the faded scars on his fingers. He was no longer a prince. “In the meantime, change into these.”  
  
Ohno dropped the pack he’d been carrying, and Jun saw leather upon leather—clothes befitting a mercenary for hire or a pirate.  
  
He looked at Ohno with a frown. “You really saw this through.”  
  
“I take no chances,” Ohno said. “If this all goes downhill, you can’t tarnish Sho-kun’s reputation. No one can know what he has in the outskirts.”  
  
“So you’re disguising us as outlaws instead of men who are part of the army he’s secretly mobilizing,” Ninomiya said, laughing. “Clever. Did you learn that trick from the princeling?”  
  
“Get dressed,” was all Ohno said, leaving them with a swish of his cloak.  
  
Ninomiya had a palm extended towards the set of clothes Ohno had given them. “After you.”  
  
Jun perused over the items without another word, and when he decided, he left Ninomiya in the cockpit to change.  
  
\--  
  
Four hours ETA meant that Ohno had time to brief them a little on what they should expect. Jun felt trapped in layers of thick leather—these were clothes of desert people. Saiph had no desert. It had lush green and meadows that nearly touched the azure sky if you looked out to the horizon. The more foreign Jun’s clothing became, the further he felt from his home. Subconsciously, he still called Saiph his home. He had known nowhere else.  
  
He had a worn down leather jacket on, dyed in faded purple. The edges of sleeves were beginning to chip off, showing what must have been brilliant craftsmanship. But the clothes had seen better days, and they felt scratchy and suffocating. When Jun moved, he felt he was in another person’s body. Every step felt detached.  
  
Ninomiya was dressed in similar garments, only that his gave the impression of a pirate than a desert wanderer. He wore leather but of a longer cut, his coat running down to the back of his thighs. When Ninomiya sat on the co-pilot’s seat, he did it with a foot placed forward, his wrist resting on the armrest.  
  
Like a king, Jun thought. He had sat like that. Once, in another time.  
  
Jun had to look away. Ohno stood in front of them, leaning against the navigation console. The threat he carried in Sho’s camp lessened without the red cape, but Jun knew he was just as lethal. He wouldn’t be captain if he hadn’t had the chance to prove himself.  
  
“I’m expecting it won’t be easy,” Ohno told them.  
  
Nothing ever is, Jun thought. Not here. Hamal was traditional and unyielding, forged by pride and honor, never to forget a slight. If Jun had insulted emperor-to-be Sakurai Sho in front of the Hamali court, he would not have left alive.  
  
“But I can slip into the palace unnoticed,” Ohno said. “I have done it before. I will find Sho-kun, tell him of my suspicions.”  
  
“And what of us?” Ninomiya asked. “Are we supposed to wait beside a wall of rock, cloaked and praying for your patrolling guards to not spot us?” He smiled. “We could run, you know.”  
  
“Yet you’ve given me your word that you won’t,” Ohno said to him. “You’re a smart man, Nino. Perhaps smarter than the Saiphan here, who came anyway despite knowing that the sight of him will be enough to call for a death sentence.”  
  
“If I stayed behind, I would be killed eventually,” Jun said. He knew it to be true. Without the Emperor Apparent’s protection, he had Ohno’s ever-watchful eye on him. Even Ninomiya’s stealthy gaze was on him. It served as his defenses somehow, surviving this long in a camp full of his enemies.  
  
Take away all of that and he’d perhaps be found at the edge of the camp with his throat slit, eyes wide in horror, the very few belongings he had missing.  
  
“Not as stupid as you thought, captain,” Ninomiya said, amused. “He goes where he’s got higher chances. As we all.”  
  
“Perhaps,” Ohno agreed after a moment. “I will go alone. The royal palace can be reached on foot from where we’ll be landing, but do not make the attempt. I’ve dressed you like outlaws and threw away the clothes you wore earlier. If you are spotted in the city, you will be taken to the dungeons.”  
  
“Matsumoto and I are quite familiar with dungeons, thanks to the princeling’s hospitality,” Ninomiya said. “We’re not so keen to visit one anytime soon.”  
  
Months ago, Jun would have hated someone speaking for him. But now he could only nod. If Sho were here to witness it, he would have laughed.  
  
Ohno still appeared doubtful over Ninomiya’s words and Jun’s intentions, and Jun knew nothing else could sway him unless he sees it for himself. Ohno was a man of action and of few words. He wasn’t the kind of captain you’d send in for diplomacy. You would send him to the fray after giving him a single order: to destroy.  
  
To see him weighing in his decisions and possibly thinking ahead on the consequences was unsettling. Jun had watched him on the first month. Pondering over matters was something Ohno rarely did. The last time he’d done so, it had been to settle a squabble over food rations. Ohno had listened to each of the men, both the offender and the offended, and when they’d finished speaking, Jun had watched as Ohno had asked the offender to draw a weapon.  
  
The air had gone still then, and whoever hadn’t been watching had their eyes fixed on Ohno.  
  
Out of pride, the offender had done as asked. And he’d lost, all with Ohno not using his cybernetic arm. Ohno had done nothing that warranted a visit to the infirmary, but the threat had been clear: any more of this nonsense and he wouldn’t hesitate.  
  
The same unwavering determination was what Jun could see whenever he looked at the captain. Jun wished he had become someone who could inspire such loyalty and dedication. Perhaps it would have saved his life.  
  
“Then our landing point is the same as our rendezvous,” Ohno said. He looked over the console, at Ninomiya’s calculations. Jun had checked them twice, and he had to admit, they were better than his own. Ninomiya had factored in all unexpected possibilities—a snow storm, a thunderstorm, even a meteor shower. The equations were exact and left marginal room for error.  
  
“How long do we wait for you before we assume the worst?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
“I’ve synced my comms with this ship. We will be in constant communication, and you will know then,” Ohno said. “If you leave without us, I will know. And as soon as I have Sho-kun secured, I will find you myself. Both of you.”  
  
“Flattering,” Ninomiya said. He didn’t appear threatened despite having seen what Ohno could do. Jun remembered his presence there, lurking in the shadows, ever observant.  
  
“How many hours till drop-off?” Ohno asked.  
  
“Two and a half,” Jun answered. “You really have no intentions of telling us about the danger we might face?”  
  
Ohno turned to him, a slight furrow formed between his eyebrows. “As long as you don’t remove the cloaking, nobody will find you.”  
  
“Unless they expect us to come,” Jun said. “You told us you suspect there are traitors in the palace, close to the emperor-to-be, and that he didn’t take your word for it. If your assumptions prove to be true, it might be too late.”  
  
“No,” Ohno said firmly. “No, it won’t. We will get there in time. I won’t have him dead.”  
  
It was the only sentence that they could give Sho if it was discovered that he was mobilizing an army to counter the royal family’s own in the outskirts of his own planet. Treason amounted to death, no matter the location or the situation.  
  
“And if you die instead?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Ohno answered immediately.  
  
“Very well,” Jun said, removing the ship on autopilot to give himself something to do. “We will wait for you.”  
  
“Until dawn of the following day,” Ohno said. “If we are not here by then, go back to the camp, tell Aiba-chan everything.” Jun noticed that Ohno was looking at him and not at Ninomiya.  
  
“You expect me to return to your camp in the event that we leave you and the Emperor Apparent for dead?” Jun was bewildered. No one had put that kind of trust in him before, not in Hamal.  
  
And yet here was Ohno.  
  
“Yes,” Ohno replied.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you know how it feels to be betrayed and left to die.”  
  
Jun averted his gaze, instead looking past the glass windows. Hamal lacked the blue skies he’d been used to in his home planet. What it had was a neverending stretch of gray, thin wisps of clouds only thickening to form nimbus and bring thunder and rain.  
  
“Until dawn of the next day,” he said, and all he heard next was the steady hum of the ship.  
  
\--  
  
The city of Sheratan was designated as the capital of Hamal, named after the second brightest star in the system following the traditions of the Old World. When Jun caught sight of the city, he was struck by how white everything was. He knew the palace was made of the same stone as the high cliffs where it stood, but he never bothered to learn more about the city it was in. He’d briefly studied Sheratan out of necessity; he figured if he were to visit the planet, it would be to request an audience with the royal family and to make an attempt at diplomacy.  
  
Now he looked past the windows and saw edifices rising from the same rock, albeit lacking the luster that the marble imbued within the palace walls had provided. Even the sands of the beach were white, and it felt like staring at a rising sea foam amidst a canvas of gray and dark green. The sea nearly mirrored the sky in color and intensity, but Jun could see hints of green.  
  
Had Hamal been a planet as bright as Saiph, her seas would have been magnificent.  
  
“There, through the crevice,” Ohno said, pointing ahead.  
  
Jun followed his line of sight, finding a narrow space where their ship could barely fit. To his left, Ninomiya was already doing the calculations, and at the click of his tongue, Jun relinquished control of the ship.  
  
“I can’t land there,” he said. “We won’t fit.” The cloaking would mean nothing if a part of the ship grazed the side of the cliff. It would only take one patrolling soldier to notice that marks they’d leave.  
  
“We will,” Ninomiya said. “I’ll make sure we will. Have the thrusters operate on auxiliary only.”  
  
Jun obeyed, flipping switches and controls. He took hold of the joystick again and took a steady breath.  
  
“Thrusters at five,” Ninomiya said, and Jun could feel how they lost the momentum they had a few seconds ago. They were dropping in altitude and decelerating, and Jun diverted all of his attention to landing the ship where Ohno had instructed.  
  
“Steady,” Ninomiya said, eyes narrowed in concentration. He would make a great co-pilot. Jun knew he sat on the pilot’s chair only because he was more familiar with the ship. Given another, it’d be him in Ninomiya’s place. “Steady. Thrusters at three now.”  
  
A little more, and Jun shut his eyes before he let go and pulled the brake. When he opened his eyes again, the ship was perfectly still, hovering a few inches from the ground with her sides unscathed. Jun waited for rockfall and it didn’t come.  
  
Ninomiya stood and began flipping the right switches, the ship powering down to auxiliary. Jun caught him frowning once he began checking the diagnostics.  
  
“We don’t have enough fuel,” Ninomiya said to Ohno. “We will only make it halfway at this rate, and that’s assuming we’re using the same route as we did to get here. If we’re pursued, we will have to make a detour, and we won’t make the return trip.”  
  
“I had the ship fully tanked before I even proposed this plan to you,” Ohno said.  
  
“But you also wanted us to get here as soon as we could,” Jun said after checking if Ninomiya had been telling the truth. He was. “We burned more fuel cells than necessary.”  
  
“Then get more,” Ohno said. “There’s a refuel station at the west of the city, close to the spaceport.” He fished for a small pack from inside his cloak and tossed something Ninomiya caught with both hands. Jun heard the jingle of coins. “Use that.”  
  
“This is Hamali money,” Ninomiya said. “I am dressed like a pirate, and I will trade with your money?”  
  
“Improvise,” Ohno said. “You claimed you were good at that before you got here.”  
  
Ninomiya turned to Jun. “That leaves you to guard the ship. You’re an eyecatcher even without all the leather, but with it, you’ll barely make five steps inside the gates before men escort you to the dungeons.”  
  
“I would rather remain here,” Jun said honestly. In the ship, he had a bit of food, water, and the means to defend himself should it be necessary. There were phasers in the cargo hold when he’d done the inventory, but Jun didn’t know if they still had power. The ship’s proton missiles, however, were working.  
  
“Then it’s settled. I will remain in constant communication with the ship,” Ohno said, turning to his heel. He departed the cockpit with one last swoosh of his cloak, and soon, they both heard the ship’s main hatch opening.  
  
“I suppose you’re going to ask me to bring a communicator just to be sure?” Ninomiya asked with a smile.  
  
Jun wordlessly reached under the consoles until he found a working one, and he tampered with it until he got it synced to the ship’s communications system. He watched the feed run on the console before handing Ninomiya the device.  
  
“Do you think I’ll run off?” Ninomiya asked, straightening his coat. He looked ridiculous in it; it was dwarfing him in size. But it contributed to his attempt to be inconspicuous. To the unsuspecting, Ninomiya appeared like a trader. If given a second glance, then he would appear to be a pirate.  
  
Jun hoped nobody would bother.  
  
“I think you will,” Jun said. “You have his money.”  
  
“It’s not enough to buy me passage wherever it is I wish to go.”  
  
“But combine the money with your tongue and it is.”  
  
That earned him Ninomiya’s amused grin. “If I run off, he will find me.”  
  
“The galaxy is vast,” Jun said. “It took them years to capture you, and that was simply because you were betrayed.”  
  
“Made a mistake,” Ninomiya corrected. “I’m not the trusting type, Matsumoto, so I can understand where you’re coming from. But you’re not going to stop me?”  
  
“What for? If you run off, you’ll die soon. If you don’t, you still will if the war happens.”  
  
In the end, Jun thought, it was a matter of taking the side that would ensure that they’d live longer. It wasn’t about living and growing old anymore. Ninomiya had been right: they were part of this now. Their mere presence in Sheratan had sealed their fate.  
  
“I’ll be in touch,” was all Ninomiya said, leaving him. “Mind the beach and the skies above us.”  
  
Ninomiya was almost out of the cockpit when Jun heard him speak once more.  
  
“I think this is why the princeling kept you alive, Saiphan.”  
  
Jun didn’t turn and instead asked, “What do you mean?”  
  
“You’re continuously proving to be unpredictable. I thought you’d call upon my honor and the word I gave to the captain.”  
  
“I would have if I thought that method worked on you,” Jun told him.  
  
“I would hate to see you die,” Ninomiya said, surprising him. It was the first time someone in this planet said those words to Jun. “If you were a swindler, I think we could have been competitors.”  
  
He left Jun then, and Jun supposed that was the closest thing to a compliment that he’d receive from someone like Ninomiya.  
  
\--  
  
The wait was agonizing.  
  
Jun had done all the work he could think of. He’d mapped out three escape routes, the drop-off points varying in distance from Sho’s camp. He’d checked the weather, the state of the ship, the beach surrounding him. He’d tested out the phasers in the cargo hold and found them working, the two with the highest charges now strapped to his belt.  
  
The communications were intermittently buzzing. From Ohno, all he’d gotten so far were updates on his location, on which parts of the palace he was in. From Ninomiya, he’d received coordinates.  
  
They were both terrible with sending information to the other party, Jun noted. Jun knew where they were thanks to the tracking programmed in their communicators, but their messages served as mere confirmations. He had no idea what was going on, if Ninomiya managed to procure fuel cells to last the journey and if Ohno located the future emperor.  
  
He heard a buzz and faced the console, tuning it to have better reception.  
  
“Matsumoto, are you in the ship?” he heard—Ohno. The feed was choppy, but the edge to his voice was unmistakable.  
  
“Yes. What’s happening?”  
  
“I can’t find him.” Jun heard a rustle followed by voices he didn’t recognize. “He left after telling me to go back, dismissing me immediately. And now he’s gone.”  
  
“You turned off the communicator,” Jun said. It would explain why he’d only received location updates. Whatever Ohno had to say to Sho, he’d intended for it to remain private. “Why are you telling me this?”  
  
“I fear the worst,” Ohno admitted. “Some things here don’t add up. He hasn’t been to the camp because he was advised bed rest for the past few days, kept under tight watch.”  
  
Jun sat still in his chair, dreading what he was about to hear.  
  
“I don’t think he’s sick,” Ohno said. “Someone made him sick to keep him here, and I was only able to talk to him when he had to relieve himself.”  
  
“You think someone’s trying to kill him,” Jun said. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. His dislike for Sho was still not tantamount to wanting to see him dead in the hands of the people he trusted.  
  
The idea of it reminded Jun of his father, and he was momentarily overcome with longing and regret.  
  
“He didn’t listen to me and now he’s missing,” Ohno said. His signal on the console was indicated by a blinking red dot, and Jun watched it constantly move in the palace interior.  
  
Jun took a deep breath, hands flying to his sides to touch the metal of the phasers. They were cold. “What are you asking me to do? I can’t leave the ship. If the guards see me, I’m done for.”  
  
“They won’t see you if you follow exactly what I say,” Ohno said confidently. He spoke like a captain now—authoritative, firm.  
  
Jun remained silent, weighing in the pros and cons. He knew he shouldn’t. Sho wanted him dead. Why should he risk his life to save someone who would kill him in the end?  
  
“Please,” Ohno said, and Jun could hear the desperation. “I know you do not care for him. But if he dies, my planet will, too. He’s the one person preventing us to fall into savagery and eventual ruin.”  
  
Jun had heard of the deaths of planets back when his tutor had talked about the Old World. A planet that had consisted of humans in another galaxy had been first led by curiosity when they’d set out to explore other worlds. They’d learned terraforming, mining, and eventually managed to establish colonies in parts of their galaxy that favored human life.  
  
But they’d gotten greedy. Instead of the pursuit of knowledge, they’d began to visit other planets to expand their territory. It was the beginning of their downfall, Jun’s old tutor had said. Wars had been waged and people had suffered, and now all that remained of the Old World were records of it in history books.  
  
“We have descended from them,” Jun had concluded at that time.  
  
“Why do you say so?” his tutor had asked, curiously.  
  
“We’ve been at odds with Hamal for years because we killed their people and took their lands,” Jun had said. “Isn’t that avarice?”  
  
His tutor had regarded him. “Do not speak these words again, young prince. Your father won’t like them.”  
  
“But it’s the truth,” Jun had said; youth housed an abundance of stubbornness.  
  
“Yes,” his tutor had said, nodding. “We have descended from them. As did the Hamali. Greed lives in us all. The difference is in how we choose to address it.”  
  
The memory was so old and Jun couldn’t recall anything further. But Ohno’s words had resonated in him.  
  
If he dies, my planet will, too.  
  
Had Jun been crowned king, he’d have sworn an oath. As Crown Prince, he’d already groomed himself to follow it. To act to his people’s best interests, to safeguard their lives and their children, to be benevolent as their ruler and formidable as their protector.  
  
He’d been in Sho’s place once. And this time, he could prevent it from happening again.  
  
His voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke.  
  
“Tell me what to do.”  
  
\--  
  
If the city hadn’t looked threatening when Jun had landed the ship, that impression only lasted until Jun stepped foot beyond the city gates. He’d thrown a tattered cloak over himself so as not to attract attention, but he felt observed nonetheless. In another life, he would have welcomed the feeling with a confident gait and a proud lift of his chin.  
  
The Hamali in Sheratan weren’t like the men Jun had met in Sho’s camp. Soldiers on patrol stood flanking supply domes, the gates of the marketplace, monuments of the emperors and empresses of old. One in particular caught Jun’s attention, the monument of the current empress—Sho’s mother.  
  
Her ivory statue stood at the center of the city square, flanked by two obelisks. Whoever sculpted her had skill; her face had a hardness that matched her eyes that had been constructed out of obsidian—the only touch of color in her imposing appearance. Jun looked at the statue and felt judged, as if the Empress of Hamal herself was threatening him to abandon what he was planning to do, forbidding him to enter her city.  
  
I didn’t come to invade your land, a part of Jun wanted to say. I’m not here to kill anyone.  
  
“Left,” he heard from the communicator, and he moved to follow. Ohno gave one-worded instructions and didn’t entertain questions. “When you reach the end of the street, head for under the bridge.”  
  
Jun obeyed, careful not to make eye contact with anyone for too long. He kept his steps evenly paced so as not to appear that he was in a hurry.  
  
He had to climb down some stone steps to reach the place Ohno had indicated. His eyes followed the path of a narrow stream, one that interconnected with other channels found all over the city. Jun had seen them congregating in one main duct as Ohno had him look over the city’s blueprints back in the ship, before he’d finally left it to pursue this suicide mission. The duct led to the sea, reaching it as a graceful waterfall arising from the edge of a high cliff.  
  
Sheratan wasn’t as modern and as flourishing as the capital city of Jun’s home planet, but she was beautiful and self-sufficient. Jun had seen that on his way here, and he wanted to tell his tutors long gone how wrong they were in some of their teachings. All his life, he’d been taught that Hamal was the enemy, that she was a decaying, dying planet which wouldn’t put up much of a fight during an invasion. And for a long time, Jun had thought that to be true.  
  
“Are you there?” Ohno asked, and Jun’s focus shifted to him.  
  
“Yes,” he replied. He hid himself under the bridge, his entire body blanketed in shadows in fear of passersby.  
  
“Good,” was all Ohno said, and Jun heard a crack behind him.  
  
He turned, one hand resting on the phaser strapped to his belt. The wall of rock that formed a base of the bridge had disappeared, revealing a narrow corridor beyond. Jun found himself staring at Ohno, standing in what appeared to be a secret passageway that led to the palace.  
  
“Follow me,” Ohno said in person this time, and Jun did.  
  
As soon as he was inside, Ohno tinkered with a console and the wall from before slid back into place.  
  
“You’ve just shown your enemy a secret path that leads to the palace,” Jun said.  
  
“Desperate times,” Ohno said, moving to walk past him. “Who would you tell anyway?”  
  
Jun didn’t bother to reply. They both knew the answer.  
  
The corridor was small and dank. Ohno had no problems with bumping his head against the ceiling given his height, but Jun had to crouch a little as he trudged behind Ohno.  
  
“Your footsteps are loud,” Ohno said.  
  
“It’s the boots. They’re too big for my feet,” Jun said, but he could feel the tips of his ears burning. He never had to make his presence unnoticeable before. He’d been the center of attention once. Now he had to make the conscious effort of being light on his feet, suddenly having to learn how to become like a palace servant, slipping away without anyone noticing.  
  
Ohno made no further comment. He led Jun on, and when they reached another door, Ohno faced him.  
  
“There are two wings in the palace. I’ve searched the east wing and didn’t find him there, but I want you to go and check all the same. It’s the wing with the least number of guards; they’re doing drills in the west wing at this hour since there’s an ongoing council meeting and only the Empress’ personal security are allowed to linger there.”  
  
“Did you check the council chambers, captain?” Jun asked.  
  
Ohno looked annoyed for the first time. “Yes. Sho-kun wasn’t summoned, which is why I’m concerned. His siblings are there on behalf of his mother, but not him.”  
  
“Then he is missing,” Jun said.  
  
Ohno appeared not to hear him. He tilted his chin to Jun’s left, and Jun realized that what he thought was a wall wasn’t actually one.  
  
“There are secret passageways throughout the palace. The servants do not know of them, as well as most of the guards. The royal family and their confidantes, however, know of them.”  
  
The existence of such things weren’t strange to Jun. Their own palace had its own set of secret passageways, labyrinthine areas that Jun knew like the back of his own hand. As a boy, he’d seen to it that he had them memorized.  
  
“There are no turns, except when you reach an entrance to a specific room. If you follow the corridor once I open the door, you’ll find the library, the public baths, and the royal chambers. Sho-kun’s is the first one you’ll come across with.”  
  
Jun nodded. “There are cameras, of course?”  
  
“Of course,” Ohno said. “But they’re not directed towards the secret doors, so as long as you keep to the walls and remain silent, you will not be discovered.”  
  
“I understand,” Jun said.  
  
Ohno moved to press some buttons on the console, and a door slid open.  
  
“This is treason, you realize?” Jun asked, just before he crossed the threshold. “Letting your enemy into the paths that are structured to save your future emperor’s life in times of danger.”  
  
“It’s been treason since I talked to Nino,” Ohno said. “I know what I face.”  
  
“Then let’s find the Emperor Apparent so we can get out of here,” Jun said, spinning on his heel.  
  
\--  
  
The royal library of Hamal didn’t house a collection as massive as the one Jun was accustomed to, but the area was still spacious enough that Jun had to rely on his hearing to know if Sho was there. Like any other library, it was quiet, and only muted conversations carried through the air.  
  
From experience, Jun knew that if a member of a royal family (especially the Crown Prince) had stepped through the library’s doors, the chief librarian and his attendants would spring to attention and cause a ruckus, momentarily disrupting the library’s peace. If Sho was here, Jun thought he would have known. There would be whispers—about what the emperor-to-be was reading, how he looked as he skimmed through each old tome, each volume—and there would be bystanders.  
  
The presence of a royal always attracted a crowd.  
  
Jun spent five minutes listening in before deciding to move to the next chamber. On his way there, he could feel the stifling heat coming from the steam baths, the sonics. Saiph never had bathhouses; they never saw the need to turn the act of cleansing themselves into a social gathering.  
  
However, being Crown Prince, Jun had shared baths with people in the past—the people who’d shared his bed the night before. Ohno had called theirs public baths. Jun assumed it was where the families of power had gathered when the sight of long tables and pads had worn them out.  
  
The heat generated by the sonic showers and the steam tubs seeped through the walls and the very ground Jun walked on and left him sweating in his clothes. The thick leather hoarded more and more heat as Jun walked, and when he finally reached the door, he had to take a moment to wipe a trickle of sweat on his forehead before pushing it open.  
  
Jun had never seen a bathhouse before, and the sight of marble tubs arising from the ground surprised him. There were attendants bringing refreshments towards one tub in the corner, and Jun had to slip through the door to slide it shut.  
  
Finding Sho here would be difficult, but he had to try. Ohno had asked him to.  
  
The baths were sparsely populated, and there were pillars situated all over the room. It was designed after a very ancient civilization from the Old World, something Jun had only glimpsed in old books. But Jun had no time to gawk and admire. He instead used the pillars to his advantage; they were big enough to hide his body if he leaned against them, and he did so while peering through each tub for any occupant that might look familiar to him.  
  
The search took him longer than his stay in the library did, but it yielded the same results. There was no sight of the infuriating emperor-to-be.  
  
He slipped back inside the secret door and caught his breath, wondering if it was truly worth leaving the ship for this. Ninomiya should be back in the ship by now, and Jun would rather help him load the fuel cells than play hide and seek with a future emperor.  
  
He walked onward anyway; there was no use pondering what could have been. He was here now. After the royal chambers, he’d have to go back and hope Ohno’s search wasn’t as hopeless as his was turning out to be.  
  
The trek to Sho’s chambers was longer than Jun had estimated, long enough for the heat from the baths to dissipate from the walls. It was reasonable, Jun thought, for a pampered emperor-to-be to not want his private quarters to be so close to where most of the palace’s heaters were. Nights in Hamal were cold, but the winter didn’t last for as long as a year. Their summers might not be as intense as Saiph’s, but the heat had to be grueling for a person unaccustomed to it.  
  
Jun listened in when he reached the door, and he heard something that made him push it open. It was a crash—porcelain, glass, he didn’t know—followed by a thud and a groan.  
  
His eyes searched the moment he stepped in, and he found four men circling Sho, clad in cloaks similar to the tattered one wrapped around his body. Sho was dressed down in a plain tunic and trousers. He didn’t appear to be panicking despite the armed men he was facing, but he’d been the source of the sound. A shattered plate and a few pieces of broken glass separated him from the men, but they were closing in and surrounding him.  
  
Sho’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and Jun reached for the phasers he’d tucked in his holsters, set them to stun, and took aim.  
  
“Duck!” he screamed at Sho, and the men turned to him. Jun managed to fire once before they opened fire on him, and he had to roll to his side at the sight of a red flare to avoid getting hit.  
  
Their phasers were set to kill.  
  
These men were assassins.  
  
Jun wasn’t an experienced killer, but he’d laid down a couple of his own men during the training he’d imposed on himself. He knew how to move to avoid a phaser fire, how to disarm a man once he got close enough.  
  
But it was him against two men, the other two—he discovered when he looked ahead—were trying to kill Sho in the adjacent room.  
  
Ohno’s words rung in Jun’s head.  
  
Don’t die, he thought, and resolved to do the same.  
  
One man aimed for his torso, and Jun evaded the shot by crouching. He fired as soon as he could, and he was able to hit one assailant square in the face, knocking him out.  
  
That angered his companion, now firing at will in Jun’s direction. Jun inched closer to the man as he tried to evade, and when he got close enough, he swung his leg to knock the man off balance.  
  
The man fell with a groan, and Jun stomped on his wrist to make him let go of his weapon. He kicked the phaser away and stunned the man to unconsciousness before running to the adjacent room, towards the main chambers.  
  
He found one of the assassins lying unconscious against the wall, and looking ahead revealed Sho kneeling on top of the other, a piece of a glass shard in his hands. Sho put all of his weight on the final assailant, not moving off him even as he struggled.  
  
Jun watched Sho press the glass shard against the man’s neck, and he was pulling the trigger before he knew it, stunning the last assassin before Sho could pierce the man’s neck with his makeshift weapon.  
  
Sho turned to him with wild eyes, and he moved faster than Jun had expected. He was on Jun in moments, the glass shard resting on Jun’s throat as his back hit the wall.  
  
“Who sent you?!” Sho snarled.  
  
“I didn’t come to kill you,” Jun said, grabbing Sho by the wrist and pushing him back.  
  
“You’re dressed like them!” Sho said, the fire in his eyes yet to disappear. Jun didn’t let go of him until he groaned in pain and dropped the shard, and it shattered close to their feet when it hit the floor.  
  
“This is a disguise!” Jun hissed, and he shoved Sho off him.  
  
Sho picked up one of the assassins’ discarded phaser and pointed it threateningly at Jun. “Why didn’t you let me kill them if you’re not one of them?!”  
  
“Because you don’t have to be like them,” Jun said, breaths coming in gasps. The rush of adrenaline was dissipating. He saw something shift in the way Sho was looking at him. “You don’t. This way, you can question them.”  
  
Sho stared at him with eyes narrowed, then he lowered his weapon a little. “Ohno.”  
  
“He’s looking for you,” Jun said. “He was worried about you.”  
  
“What else did he tell you?” Sho asked, his voice strained.  
  
“That he suspects someone is trying to kill you,” Jun said. He stuffed his phasers back in their holsters and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not here to do that.”  
  
“What are you here for, then?”  
  
“To find you.”  
  
A furrow formed between Sho’s eyebrows, followed by the slide of muscle in his jaw. “Why?”  
  
“Because Ohno asked me to.” Jun looked around at every corner of the room, even at the ceiling. He found no cameras, but he didn’t feel secure.  
  
“Do you think they’d put cameras in my bedroom?” Sho asked.  
  
“I mustn’t be seen,” Jun said. “I promised Ohno I wouldn’t be.”  
  
“What else did you promise my captain?” Sho asked, and when Jun turned back to him, the phaser had been lowered. Sho still eyed him warily, but the aggression from earlier had disappeared, replaced by guarded curiosity.  
  
Jun reached for his communicator and reported Sho’s location to Ohno. “That I’d help him bring you back to the outskirts.”  
  
Sho watched him, and Jun turned to look at the four assailants. “Do you have any binds?”  
  
“No,” Sho said. He stepped forward, took aim, and fired.  
  
Jun watched him in shock. Sho had just killed a man. A man that had been hired to kill him. Sho moved to the next one and did the same, and to the next. He reached the last man before Jun was able to grasp his wrist and step right into the line of fire.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Have you gone mad? You just murdered the very people who could have told you who was behind all this.”  
  
Sho met his eyes before casting a pointed look at Jun’s grip on him. Jun didn’t budge.  
  
“Stop,” Jun said. “Stop.”  
  
“They tried to kill me,” Sho said, as if Jun didn’t know.  
  
“Yes, but you’re not a killer. Stop.”  
  
“You would know what a killer is. Your bloodline is full of it.”  
  
Among Sho’s insults so far, that was the weakest one yet, betraying his state at present. Now that Jun took a good look at him, he could see the fatigue, the fear that Sho was trying desperately to hide. There’d just been an attempt on his life, and the person he treated as his sworn enemy bore witness to all of it. Jun had seen a moment of vulnerability.  
  
Jun couldn’t imagine what was Sho feeling at this moment. There might be no words to describe it.  
  
“You’re not like me,” Jun said instead. “You’re not like my people.”  
  
He felt Sho’s grip on the phaser slacken, and Jun pried it from Sho’s hands. He examined it and found no stun feature—it was permanently set to kill. A weapon of a hired mercenary.  
  
Jun pulled out his own and fired one stun shot on the remaining man, just to be sure.  
  
Outside, they heard footsteps followed by voices of men asking to be granted entry, and Jun froze just as his gaze met Sho’s.  
  
“Go,” Sho said, gesturing to the door Jun had come through.  
  
Jun hesitated.  
  
“It’s my royal guard,” Sho said. “They won’t harm me.”  
  
“They took their time,” Jun said. “Ohno—”  
  
“Tell him I will follow,” Sho said. “Go. They can’t see you here. You must leave now.”  
  
“What will you tell them?” Jun asked, wary. “I’m not sure the other cameras didn’t catch me.”  
  
Sho almost smiled. The twitch of his lips gave it away. “I’m an accomplished orator, Matsumoto. I know what to say. Go.”  
  
Jun nodded and he ran, slipping through the door as fast as he could.  
  
The last thing he saw before he slid the door shut was Sho standing in the center of his chambers and looking down on his hands, the bodies of four men surrounding his form.  
  
\--  
  
“Return to the ship and wait for us there,” was Ohno’s order after Jun had finished relaying everything to him.  
  
Jun did, but he decided to wait for nightfall in order to slip past people more easily. He lingered for an hour or two in the corridor that led to the bridge, and once the built-in chronometer of the communicator indicated that the moon was high up, he made his way back to the cliffs.  
  
Ninomiya was sitting at the top of the platform of the opened hatch when Jun reached the ship, his elbows resting on his thighs. His elaborate coat was gone. He was smirking the moment Jun had gotten past the cloak, revealing the ship.  
  
“Been busy?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
“You didn’t run off with the ship,” Jun said.  
  
“I can’t fly her myself,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“Liar. You would have found a way, somehow.”  
  
Ninomiya smiled wider. “Come now, aren’t we comrades? Especially after you ran off according to the captain’s orders.”  
  
Jun looked past Ninomiya but couldn’t see a thing. Ninomiya had powered down the entire ship. “You got the fuel cells?”  
  
“I got the fuel cells,” Ninomiya said, a touch of pride in his voice. “You got the princeling?”  
  
“Ohno did.” Jun climbed up the ship, boots thudding against the flooring. “I think.”  
  
“I heard everything, you know,” Ninomiya said. Jun glanced at him, and all he saw was Ninoiya’s back. The man didn’t move from his position. “Your feed was still connected to the ship.”  
  
“I see,” was all Jun said.  
  
“You saved his life.” There was curiosity now. “Why?”  
  
“Would you let a man die if you could do something about it?”  
  
Ninomiya didn’t reply and instead kept watching the beach, the waves hitting the shore. Jun left him after a moment and began undressing, discarding his cloak and loosening the straps of his leather jacket. It stuck to him because he’d sweat through it, and the discomfort was becoming unbearable. He balled up the cloak and wiped some of his sweat with it—there was nothing for him to use. Gone were the days he merely had to call for an attendant.  
  
He made his way to the engine room and did a quick sweep; they had to be ready to leave as soon as Ohno arrived. He examined the fuel cells, finding them assembled properly, and went to where he’d last seen Ninomiya.  
  
“Told you I got the fuel cells,” Ninomiya said without turning to face him.  
  
Jun moved to sit on the space next to him. “You also did something about the transistor.”  
  
“It was faulty. Made the ship creak,” was all Ninomiya said.  
  
“Thank you for your hard work,” Jun said.  
  
Ninomiya snorted, then he chuckled, his shoulders shaking.  
  
“What?” Jun asked.  
  
“That’s the first time someone thanked me in a long time,” Ninomiya said. He turned to Jun, and Jun waited. “Did he thank you? For what you did?”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “He thought I was going to kill him too. I couldn’t blame him for thinking that. I was dressed like them.”  
  
“Were they from your planet?”  
  
Jun shook his head. “From the outer rim, it appeared. Hired mercenaries. But with my presence there, for a moment it looked as if I was leading those men to an assassination.”  
  
Ninomiya let out a breath. “I could use a cigarette right now, with all these political feuds and plots I never thought I’d be a part of.”  
  
Jun echoed his sentiment. The weariness was sinking in now; his feet ached from all the running, his shoulders felt tense with all the crouching and ducking. And he still had to bring Ohno and Sho back to the camp.  
  
“You didn’t sign up for this,” Ninomiya said. It made Jun look at him, at his youthful, deceiving face. “Of all the men I met in that wretched camp, you’re the only one who didn’t sign up for this.”  
  
“You didn’t either,” Jun pointed out.  
  
“No, in a way, I did.” Ninomiya stretched his legs, bracing himself with his wrists flat on the flooring behind him. He looked relaxed. “When I followed that tip despite my suspicions, I signed myself up for something. I didn’t imagine it’d turn out to be this, but my actions led me here. Yours didn’t.”  
  
“You seem certain,” Jun told him. “I never told you a thing about me.”  
  
“That’s the thing about you,” Ninomiya said, smiling. “You’re a man of action. I never knew what made you do the things you did, and just when I thought nothing could surprise me anymore, I learn about you saving your enemy’s life. He imprisoned you, if you remember.”  
  
“He imprisoned you too.”  
  
“But I’m used to that.” Ninomiya’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“Used to people not being kind to you?” Jun asked, and Ninomiya looked away for a second. It was more than enough. “You were from the outer rim, you said.”  
  
“That’s what I said, yes.”  
  
“Were you—” Jun caught himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place.”  
  
“If you want to know something, you have to ask the question,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“You were born somewhere else,” Jun said instead. “Somewhere not part of the outer rim.”  
  
“Alnitak,” Ninomiya said.  
  
That was a planet of farmers and fishermen. Of people living an honest life, their produce their primary trade. They were peaceful people under the protection of Jun’s home planet. His father’s crest had been on their currency.  
  
Jun was overcome with homesickness, rushing inside him like floodgates opened. Had he been king, Ninomiya would have been part of his people.  
  
When he recovered, he felt dread. If Ninomiya had hailed from a planet under their territory, he would have to know who their king was. And the future king.  
  
“Alnitak,” Jun repeated, keeping his voice even.  
  
“The planet of bountiful harvests,” Ninomiya said. He had a faraway look in his eyes. “Of honesty and prosperity through hard work and fair trade. The irony isn’t lost to you, I’d say.”  
  
“You chose this life,” Jun concluded.  
  
Ninomiya quirked an eyebrow. “What, the life of a criminal? I didn’t.” He looked up at the dark sky above them, the celestial bodies concealed by clouds. “I chose the stars. But one thing led to another, and here I am.”  
  
“Why did you leave?” Jun couldn’t imagine voluntarily leaving Saiph. He’d had the luxury trips he’d indulged in, but he’d always find his way back home.  
  
“I couldn’t do it,” Ninomiya said. “The life of a farmer or a fisherman. My parents were farmers. They had this mill along with a granary, and workers, lots of them. All of whom were treated fairly, provided with the proper wage. It was a good life.”  
  
“But not the one you wanted?”  
  
“It wasn’t for me,” Ninomiya said. “They say ambition is what kills the man. I suppose that is true. I wanted more. That’s why I left. I wanted to be part of the stories I grew up with. Be the stories when I get back.”  
  
“How old were you?”  
  
Ninomiya smiled, and without the light, he looked young, like a man on the cusp of adulthood. “When I left, the Saiphan king just named his daughter as his successor. I was hardly of age. When you’re that young, you call that bravery. When you’re older and looking back, you call that impulsiveness. Either way, I didn’t manage to get back home.”  
  
Jun would estimate to be Ninomiya around thirteen, fourteen at that time, close to his age. Rina had been Crown Princess when he was turning thirteen. He couldn’t imagine having the guts to leave his planet at that age.  
  
But Ninomiya wasn’t a prince. He was born to be a farmer.  
  
“Next thing I knew, I was in the outer rim, trying to fend for myself. It’s funny what men intending you harm can teach you if you survive the horror,” Ninomiya said. “You asked if I would leave a man to die if something could be done about it. At one time, I wouldn’t have.”  
  
Jun didn’t say anything; he knew he wouldn’t find the right words. He would never be able to imagine what kind of life Ninomiya had lived before this. The outer rim was a notorious place for outlaws and black market trading. To have survived that long in such a place, Ninomiya must have done what was necessary.  
  
“We can’t all be noble like you,” Ninomiya said. “Men are wretched beings. Each to their own.”  
  
They remained silent after that. The intermittent crashes of the waves against the shore were all Jun could hear, at least until he found himself asking, “Do you miss it?”  
  
Ninomiya faced him in question.  
  
“Home,” Jun said. He almost choked at the word.  
  
“Alnitak wasn’t my home. If it were, I wouldn’t have left it.” Ninomiya slid down the flooring with a grunt, resting his head on his curved arm. “I used to do this back in the fields. Alnitak had cloudless skies, an unobstructed view of the stars. I would run to the wheat fields and find a spot, lie down and look up. I always felt a calling every time. That somewhere out there, I’d find my place.”  
  
“And did you?”  
  
“I’m still searching,” Ninomiya said. “But I miss my parents. Last thing I heard, my sister got married and had a kid. I never met my niece. Or nephew; I don’t know how many there are. It’s been so long. But I would have wanted them to know who I was, what I saw when I left the planet. I think it’ll make an interesting bedtime story.” He shrugged. “But the Saiphan king had implemented many rules that made it difficult to go back. I stopped trying after a while. Besides, if anybody knew that I have family in Alnitak, they might use them to flush me out. I’m still a criminal.”  
  
If Jun were still future king, he could arrange for a ship to take Ninomiya back to Alnitak with a word. Had he been prince still, he’d have ensured that Ninomiya would have had a visit, just to see how his family were.  
  
“I swear to you,” Jun found himself saying anyway, “that I’ll help you get to Alnitak one day.”  
  
Ninomiya turned to him, expression serious for a moment.  
  
“I’ll find a way,” Jun said, determined.  
  
To his surprise, Ninomiya smiled. Not his usual crafty or teasing smiles, but a soft one. “You talk like a king, but you’re trapped here as much as I am.”  
  
Jun opened his mouth to say something, but a flash of movement caught his eye. He stood abruptly, and Ninomiya sat up. Ahead, they could see two men approaching. They were both hooded, but one man wore a cloak of finer material than the other.  
  
“Good evening, captain,” Ninomiya greeted cheerily as soon as Ohno and Sho went past the scope of the cloaking device. “Princeling.”  
  
“Ninomiya,” Sho said in reply, but his eyes were on Jun. “I see you didn’t leave without us.”  
  
“I still have your captain’s purse,” Ninomiya said, and he tossed the pack in Ohno’s direction, who caught it with one hand.  
  
Ohno kept the purse inside his cloak without bothering to check the remaining credit inside them. Jun caught Ninomiya smiling.  
  
Sho climbed up the opened hatch, hands unfastening his cloak. “We must depart now.”  
  
Jun waited until Ohno climbed aboard before he sealed the hatch. Ninomiya already went ahead, perhaps navigating their route back, but before Jun could follow, Ohno stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Jun looked at him. Past the goggles that he still wore, he saw something he never thought he’d see on the eyes of a Hamali.  
  
“Thank you,” Ohno said. “For what you did.”  
  
“Did he kill the other?” Jun asked.  
  
Ohno shook his head. “We questioned him, but he didn’t budge. In the end, he killed himself with poison.”  
  
Jun merely nodded. “He killed the other men.”  
  
“He told me you stilled his hand,” Ohno said. “Why did you do that?”  
  
“He’s not a killer,” Jun said. “Until today.”  
  
“What difference does one man make? They were going to kill him.”  
  
“It’s still one man,” Jun said. “One life. It makes a difference, despite that.”  
  
“Matsumoto, I need you on the bridge,” Ninomiya said through the comms. “Must I do everything by myself?”  
  
Ohno regarded him before letting him go, tilting his head towards the cockpit.  
  
Jun moved to leave, but he could feel Ohno’s eyes on him as he walked away.  
  
\--  
  
The ship had two private quarters in it, and Sho already laid claim to one as soon as the ship was flying steadily back to the outskirts. It would take them longer to reach the camp since Ninomiya had taken the precautionary measure of using one of the alternative routes Jun had mapped beforehand, but Sho hadn’t complained. All he’d done was nod.  
  
Jun placed the ship on autopilot before finally discarding the jacket and gloves, as well as the knee pads that he wore. He piled them as neatly as he could in the cargo hold before pulling the phasers from their holsters and putting them back where he’d found them. They still had a few charges in them.  
  
“You shouldn’t leave them,” a voice said from the doorway.  
  
Jun proceeded to take off his gloves, not bothering to look behind him. “You should rest. We won’t be there in six hours.”  
  
“I didn’t find out anything,” Sho told him. “The man whose life you asked me to spare ended his own with a poisoned pellet that was trapped under his tongue. I didn’t kill him, but he was dying anyway.”  
  
Jun was clad in a thin shirt that stuck to his skin, and he wiped his face using the edge of it before unbuckling his boots. It took him a while; the buckles were old and beginning to rust, and he had to be careful, but soon his feet were free.  
  
He suddenly felt self-conscious disrobing in front of Sho.  
  
Jun turned and found Sho leaning against the doorway, watching him. Not with contempt as he always had. There was something else in his eyes now.  
  
Jun moved to grab the old clothes that he’d worn, the ones from Ohno’s garrison. He slipped the boots into his feet and laced them, hands making quick work. His every moment was being observed, and Jun wondered if it was to satisfy a curiosity or to find a weakness. With everything that had happened, he wasn’t sure he could defend himself.  
  
“I don’t have the strength to engage in a verbal battle with you,” Jun admitted. “Come back tomorrow.”  
  
“I didn’t come here for that,” Sho said.  
  
Jun directed a questioning look at Sho.  
  
“I don’t like being indebted to anyone,” Sho said after a moment. “To you, most of all.”  
  
Jun almost smiled in mockery. “You have to say it, you know. With you, I don’t know what to think.”  
  
“Would you like a reward?” Sho asked. “Name your price.”  
  
Their eyes met, and Jun said, “You know what I want.”  
  
“Your freedom? A stocked ship and my leave to return to your planet?” Sho’s eyes narrowed at him, and Jun knew what his answer would be. “No. Ask for another.”  
  
“There is nothing else you can give me,” Jun said.  
  
“There is something,” Sho said, and his eyes had turned shrewd. Jun was now wary of him, his system assuming fight or flight. “You might want to know what’s happening in your planet at the moment.”  
  
Jun held his breath and composed himself. He mustn’t look too eager, too starved for information. It had been four months of silence.  
  
“The usurper, Princess Rina, is now crowned Queen of Saiph after her father’s death and her half-brother’s mysterious disappearance,” Sho said. “It’s said that there are Saiphan ships searching the galaxy for him, that his sister wants him found and brought back to the family, sparing no expense.”  
  
Jun felt bile rising to his throat. How far would the lies go? He was still alive, and Rina knew perfectly well where he was.  
  
“You called her a usurper,” Jun said, finding his voice. “You’ve been calling her that ever since. Why?”  
  
“Isn’t it too convenient for her story?” Sho asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That the old king died because of soldiers turning rogue, the Crown Prince disappears, and she has to assume the throne in his place? All after she abdicated years ago, of course.”  
  
“You think she killed them.”  
  
“I’ll tell you what every Hamali thinks happened. The Saiphan king was murdered by his daughter, and his daughter killed the heir he named after she’d realized what an asset she lost when she’d given up the throne. She had every witness killed from the king’s household and royal guard down to the prince’s. And now she’s playing every Saiphan for a fool, putting on a convincing act so that the whole planet mourns the loss of their king and prince, but also rejoices at the return of their princess.”  
  
It was too much. If what Sho told him was true, then all the members of his household had been slaughtered. His butler, his personal servants, his attendants, his entertainers. The captain he’d personally appointed to safeguard his life, the man who had taught him everything he knew about combat. His royal guard whom he’d trained with.  
  
Jun averted his gaze to his feet in order to steel himself.  
  
He mustn’t falter now. Not here, not in front of this man.  
  
“What does this information have to do with you?” Jun asked.  
  
“Oh you are a Saiphan indeed,” Sho said. “If you were still on your planet, your queen would have played you true. What does this have to do with me? I have to be mad to not think that she won’t come for my planet next.”  
  
“She will not invade you,” Jun said. There would be no point, Jun thought. Rina had everything already; Jun no longer stood in her way.  
  
Unless she truly wanted to erase all evidence.  
  
Sho was looking at him like he understood perfectly what Jun was thinking. “You’re starting to doubt that.”  
  
Jun couldn’t deny it. He wanted to know when it would be enough, when would Rina stop, but he knew that she wouldn’t as long as he lived. She wasn’t convinced that sending him here would kill him—she knew him too well. She knew Jun would survive, would make the most of his situation and try to find a way back.  
  
“It’s only a matter of time,” Sho said. “My mother has already denied the Saiphan queen’s request for an audience to give her time to mourn.”  
  
“You don’t agree with your mother’s decision,” Jun said. He could see it on Sho’s face.  
  
“No. Because all she was able to achieve with that courtesy was giving our enemy more time to strategize their attack better. Your planet will come to invade mine, thanks to my mother indirectly lending a hand to your queen.”  
  
“She’s not my queen,” Jun said immediately.  
  
“Oh yes, I forgot. You made an enemy of her, which is why you’re here.” Sho moved off the doorway and stepped inside the cargo hold, standing a few paces away from Jun. “Tell me, were you a loyalist of the Crown Prince? What was he like? We never met.”  
  
“He was a fool,” Jun said quietly. “He loved dearly and trusted blindly.”  
  
“Was he kind?”  
  
“I—he was fair,” Jun said. “He wanted to be a king worthy of his people.”  
  
“Would the people have mourned for him?” Sho asked. “Properly?”  
  
Jun considered it. His people had loved him. Their family was dear to the Saiphans; his father had been a firm but forgiving ruler. The planet would have mourned for their king.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. “The late prince would have been the kind of king his father has been.”  
  
“No,” Sho said.  
  
Jun turned to him, frowning. “No?”  
  
“The Princess Rina _is_ the kind of ruler her father has been,” Sho said. “She’s seeking to expand her territory soon, and with Hamal as their planet’s long-standing enemy, she will find a way to silence us eventually. That was what the old king did, and all the kings and queens before him.”  
  
“The King of Saiph didn’t have your people murdered,” Jun said, feeling anger rise from his chest.  
  
“And yet his soldiers raided our mines near the Altair Belt.”  
  
No, his father had told him it had been to rescue refugees from the hands of their Hamali captors. Jun didn’t know of this. “That wasn’t a raid. That was a rescue.”  
  
“A rescue?” Sho seemed amused now. “Is that what your king told his people? That he was liberating slaves when in reality, Hamal has forbidden slavery and any citizen your planet’s soldiers have found in the mines were honest workers? You stole those mines from us, forced our people to work for you.”  
  
“No, that’s not what happened,” Jun said, unable to believe it. His father wouldn’t have.  
  
“And how would you know? You didn’t see it happen,” Sho said. “I was there. I was sent by my mother to speak with the foreman, and what I arrived at was your planet’s herald declaring that one of our most profitable mines are now under the protection of the royal crown of Saiph.”  
  
“That’s not true!” Jun denied, shaking his head.  
  
“Didn’t you ever wonder what brought about the sudden improvements in your infrastructures? You Saiphan and your love for modern technology. It made you greedy. You took what was ours, and you’ll keep taking what’s ours. We’ve been oppressed by your kind for so long.”  
  
“The only lands we took from you,” Jun said carefully, evenly, “were the ones that the Queen Chinatsu claimed as her own when she chose to live in Saiph.”  
  
“The only lands you know that you took,” Sho corrected. “You’ve taken so much from us. I understand now why you’re here. If you followed the late prince, you’ve been as blind as him.”  
  
“He wouldn’t have done that,” Jun muttered, shaking his head repeatedly. “Not the king.” His father wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have, and yet.  
  
Yet, Sho had a point. A few years ago there had been planet-wide renovations, improvements done on old infrastructures. Jun had been fashioned a new ship for his personal use at that time, and because he’d lived in luxury, he hadn’t asked. He’d been grateful for the gift.  
  
His tutor had been telling the truth. They all descended from the inhabitants of the Old World.  
  
“Did we take your people as slaves?” Jun asked when he could, which was after the silence that had stretched between him and Sho. He had to know. If his father had—  
  
“You left them unemployed with no means of going back home,” Sho said. “You didn’t take them as slaves but cut off their means of living, gave them no purpose. Once again, your people caused mine great pain and suffering.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jun heard himself say.  
  
He seemed to have surprised Sho, who now sported a frown. “What?”  
  
“I’m sorry. For all of it.”  
  
“Why would you apologize to me?”  
  
Because my father did that to your people and I let him, Jun thought. “Because I’m a Saiphan.”  
  
“You’re no one,” Sho said, and now he sounded angry. “You’re just an unfortunate, sad, pathetic man who made the wrong enemy after overestimating himself. And now the one who sent you here to die is going to ensure your death with a planned invasion, and you can do nothing but watch it happen.”  
  
“No,” Jun said.  
  
Sho seemed appalled, his eyes nearly turning to slits. “ _No_?”  
  
“I won’t let that happen,” Jun swore. Once was enough. He’d been broken, beaten down, and thrown out. But they would have to kill him before they could do it all over again.  
  
A bark of harsh laughter escapes from Sho. “And how will you do that? You’re just one man, surrounded by people who hate your kind. Do you think a future emperor will take the word of a named traitor and defector? There has to be a limit to your imagination.”  
  
“I won’t let that happen and neither will you,” Jun said confidently, stepping forward. Sho stood his ground, but his shoulders tensed as he braced himself for Jun’s approach. “You’re trying to prevent two wars from happening while also trying to watch your back. You failed at the third a few hours ago, perhaps because you’re so focused on the other two.”  
  
He locked eyes with Sho, who was watching his every movement now.  
  
“If you want to prevent civil war, you have my word that I will help you,” Jun said sincerely. “In the event that my planet comes to invade yours, I will help you still. And should there be another attempt on your life—”  
  
“What are you getting out of this?” Sho asked suspiciously, speaking over him. “I just destroyed the reputation and the lasting memory of your late king in you.”  
  
“Yes,” Jun acknowledged. “You’ve done that. You disillusioned me towards my own people and you’ve succeeded. I still meant every word that I said.”  
  
“Why? You’re the member of my army that I never treated fairly. Why would you do all that you said you would?”  
  
“Because I saw you almost die today, and it showed me that you’re not the man I thought you were,” Jun answered. “You’ve never killed before, have you? Not until today. Not until you realized you had to.”  
  
Sho met his eyes, but Jun noticed that he was also holding himself very still. “Do you think I can’t do it when the time comes?”  
  
“You’re not a killer,” Jun told him. “You killed those men not because they were going to do the same to you, but because you knew you had to.” Sho set his jaw, and Jun continued, “ _You had to_.”  
  
Sho let his eyes slide shut, and Jun said, “You know who’s trying to have you killed.”  
  
When Sho opened his eyes, Jun waited for any rebuff or spiteful comment, but received none.  
  
“Does Ohno know?” he asked next.  
  
“If he does, the person behind it would be dead by now on my word,” Sho said.  
  
“Do you enjoy courting danger?” Jun asked. “Why go back to Sheratan where your life is always at stake? You almost got murdered!”  
  
“Are you pretending to care for my wellbeing?” Sho asked calmly.  
  
Jun was overcome with the urge to wring Sho’s neck. Must Sho always be so difficult every time? “Does the Empress know that someone is plotting to kill her heir?”  
  
“She does now,” Sho said. “They’ve been trying to kill me for a while; I have to say that this afternoon and the tea they served at one dinner a few nights ago were the only attempts that almost worked.”  
  
“And the motive?”  
  
“The motive?” Sho repeated, raising both eyebrows at him. “Have you not any guesses? You’re proving to be an adept conversant and a quick thinker, Saiphan. Don’t shatter my expectations now.”  
  
When it clicked, Jun felt sick. “They want you to lose.”  
  
“Such a benign theory,” Sho commented. “No, they don’t want me to lose. They want all of Hamal to lose. If civil war breaks out, my planet will be crippled by it. Weakened. And that’s when your planet will invade. If I die, there’ll be no one who will try to prevent an all-out war from happening. You asked why I kept coming back to Sheratan? I have to plant seeds before I can reap. My mother is headstrong; she will not back down from those who challenge our family’s claim to the throne. But at the expense of what, the loss of two-thirds of the Hamali army?” Sho looked irate now. “The council are pressuring her to put an end to it soon, but I won’t let her fight a war that only seeks to eliminate more than half of our forces.”  
  
“It’s a councilman who’s trying to kill you,” Jun concluded.  
  
Sho made no affirmation, but his silence spoke volumes.  
  
“And if she chooses to fight still?” Jun asked. If Sho’s mother was as stubborn as her son, Jun could only predict one outcome.  
  
“She will have to fight me first,” Sho said, determined. He faced Jun and gave him a long, cool look. “You promised me your aid without even knowing the extent of what you were signing up for.”  
  
“I gave you my word,” Jun told him. “Do you think I will turn back on it?”  
  
Sho tilted his head in consideration. “No, I think you won’t. What I can’t understand is why not. You spent your whole life being told that the Hamali are your enemy. And now you’re helping one in a stand against your own planet? Is it mercy? Or are you doing this out of malice? Do you think you can win your freedom in this manner?”  
  
“I’m not helping you because I pity you or because I want a reward from you,” Jun said firmly. “I’m helping you because I know what it’s like.”  
  
“What’s what like?” Sho asked, eyes on his.  
  
“To fight alone,” Jun said.  
  
A breath escaped from Sho, and for a moment, Jun had a glimpse of how he truly felt. The fatigue had been on his face for a second before he bottled it all up, hid everything with a mask of indifference.  
  
But Jun now knew it was all a facade.  
  
“I always fought alone,” Sho said. “I’m all that I have. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”  
  
Jun remembered the day of his transfer to Ohno’s garrison.  
  
He’s only gotten better at it as he got older, Ohno had said.  
  
“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Jun told him. “You have Ohno. Aiba. All the men we’re returning to. Even Ninomiya’s on your side now, despite his tendencies.”  
  
“I have criminals on my side, how comforting,” Sho said. “Is that what you’re going to reassure me with? Don’t waste your breath. I don’t need allies, I just need men. I can do this. I know I can. I’ve done so much before, on my own.”  
  
“Is that why you say you don’t need anyone?” Jun asked. “Because you’re so used to not having someone on your side, someone who knows everything that’s going on?”  
  
“You say I have Ohno and Aiba? Of course I have them; they’re my soldiers. They’re going to do what they’re told.” Sho glared at him, nostrils flaring. “Do you enjoy deluding me to a false sense of security on the day I almost got assassinated? Your timing is commendable. Pray tell, what other lies will you tell your enemy today, Matsumoto Jun?”  
  
“You don’t have to do this alone!” Jun said, feeling anger spike in him. He’d never met a person as stubborn and as infuriating as Sho. Why wouldn’t he listen? “Why won’t you realize this? You have men who are loyal to your cause! Ohno risked his life, his reputation to save you! I’m willing to help you, but you won’t let me, and that’s because you won’t let anyone!”  
  
“Because I’m on my own!” Sho told him. “I’ve always been on my own! I have no one!”  
  
“You have me!” Jun cried.  
  
It marked the time Jun first witnessed shock etched on Sho’s face. He hadn’t thought he’d be capable of putting that there.  
  
“And everyone else,” Jun added, his voice lowering in pitch. He’d been screaming moments ago, he realized. “If only you allowed it.”  
  
Silence fell between them. Jun took in Sho’s appearance, at how the way he looked at Jun had changed. What was he seeing? His enemy? Jun had become so much in such a short span of time, given the turn of events.  
  
When Sho spoke, Jun couldn’t detect the emotion in his voice. “You’re not turning out the way I expected.”  
  
Jun nearly laughed. Instead he settled for a snort. “Believe me, that sentiment is something I share.” When Sho looked at him questioningly, he added, “You could’ve turned me in today. Put the blame on me. I’m a Saiphan. No one would’ve questioned it.”  
  
“Did you think I would repay what you’ve done by putting you in prison?”  
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time you imprisoned me.”  
  
Sho nearly cracked a smile, but he appeared to have caught himself on time. “And now here I am, listening to my former prisoner. How are your hands?”  
  
“My what?”  
  
“Your hands. You blistered them the last time I saw you, before the events of this afternoon. You refused to show them to me at that time.” Sho glanced at his sides, where both of his hands were.  
  
Jun shrugged. “They’re healed now. Have been for long.”  
  
I saved you with the same hands your men have caused to blister, he didn’t say. And I gained other scars since then.  
  
They heard footsteps approaching, and Jun looked past Sho to see Ohno, who halted in his tracks when he saw that Sho wasn’t alone. Sho didn’t turn.  
  
“Your Highness,” Ohno said after a pause, announcing his presence. Sho only inclined his head in acknowledgement. “There’s food in the mess hall. It’s not much, but please eat.” To Jun, Ohno said, “You too.”  
  
“Thank you Satoshi-kun,” Sho said. Ohno nodded and moved to leave, but Sho stopped him by saying, “When we get back to the camp, I want Matsumoto transferred.”  
  
Ohno was better than Jun at hiding his surprise. “Transferred, Highness?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho said, giving Jun his back and making his way out of the cargo hold, crossing half of the room in confident strides. “I want him part of my personal guard. See it done.”  
  
Ohno gave a slight bow. “As you wish.”  
  
Sho walked past Ohno, and Ohno shared a brief look with Jun before leaving.  
  
Alone, Jun finally noticed that he wasn’t able to change into the clothes he’d worn at the camp save for the boots. The leather pants and its numerous straps didn’t feel so alien now, and Jun abandoned the idea of changing entirely, refolding his clothes and setting them in a corner before making his way to the mess hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In today's PON, Jun said that [Sho was like an emperor](https://twitter.com/Junsosweet/status/917927513145217024) when he raps. Someone on twitter reminded me that I wrote this story, and I knew that meant I had to get the plot moving.

“This is a stupid game,” Jun declared.  
  
Six hours of travel time meant that he and Ninomiya took turns in watching the ship from the bridge despite the autopilot working perfectly. It also meant that with Ohno and Sho staying in other parts of the ship, the bridge was the only place where they had authority.  
  
“It’s stupid because you’re losing,” Ninomiya said.  
  
In order to pass the time, Ninomiya had offered to teach him a game involving an old deck of cards patterned after the ones last seen in the Old World, and when he’d assured Jun that there’d be no wagers involved, Jun had agreed.  
  
And now Jun was losing. Terribly.  
  
“I’ve never seen cards like these before in my life,” Jun complained. Ninomiya’s deck had fifty-two cards. The deck Jun had played with back in Saiph had forty, but each card was taller compared to the ones Jun held. And they’d been electronic, lighting up at the touch. Not like these tattered, printed ones Ninomiya possessed.  
  
“Because they’re vintage,” Ninomiya said. “You don’t see them in your planet; you’re too advanced for it. But in the outer rim, this is the fastest way to get money.”  
  
“What, distract your opponent with a card game so convoluted they actually forget to watch their personal belongings?” Jun asked, fingers poised to draw a card from Ninomiya’s set. They’d been drawing alternately for the past half hour, and Jun had the losing card. Ninomiya had called it the joker.  
  
“In the outer rim, this game is for children,” Ninomiya told him. “The skilled ones—like yours truly, of course—play something else that involves real money and having a straight face at all times.” Ninomiya smiled at him. “You’re not very good at keeping a neutral expression, Matsumoto.”  
  
Jun had always been told he made a decent player out of everything he’d taken part in. But looking back now, he’d played all those games with members of his household, his personal guard, his servants. He’d won all the time too, and perhaps they’d been simply letting him win out of reverence.  
  
“I’ll beat you,” Jun said, schooling his features to nonchalance when Ninomiya deftly avoided the trap he’d set.  
  
“Unlikely, but believe what you will,” Ninomiya said with a smile.  
  
Ninomiya’s joker remained in Jun’s hand even after the next three draws, and Jun was beginning to get desperate. He’d never lost a game in his life. There were only a few turns left.  
  
Looking past the cards in Ninomiya’s hand and right at his face revealed a smirk, and Jun quirked a well-practiced eyebrow. He knew how to intimidate people.  
  
“Do you think you’re winning?” he asked.  
  
“I am winning,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“Perhaps I’m simply letting you believe that until it’s too late,” Jun said.  
  
“I’m winning, Matsumoto,” Ninomiya said, just as he pulled a card from Jun’s stack, finishing the game. He made a little triumphant noise and smiled at Jun. “I’ve been playing this since I was a pubescent kid; I know the signs of the losing side.”  
  
“I’ll beat you one day,” Jun promised.  
  
Ninomiya stacked his cards neatly and bound them, tucking the deck inside his pocket of his trousers. Unlike Jun, he’d changed back to the clothes he wore at the camp. “That’s cute.”  
  
Jun glared at him, and Ninomiya chuckled. “One day,” he repeated.  
  
“Tell you what,” Ninomiya said, pulling out the cards once more and handing them to Jun, “you can practice with these.” Jun stared at his outstretched hand. “When you’re better, challenge me again. If you beat me, I’m taking them back.”  
  
Jun accepted the deck, its fraying edges feeling more comfortable than the finest silk he’d touched. Ninomiya might be the closest thing to a friend that he had now.  
  
“Thank you,” Jun said for the first time since his arrival at Hamal.  
  
“It’s not a gift,” Ninomiya said, grinning. “I just want you to last for more than an hour against me next time.”  
  
“And I will,” Jun promised. “You will lose next time.”  
  
Ninomiya only laughed loudly, and Jun allowed himself to let out a few chuckles of his own.  
  
\--  
  
Their return to the camp was welcomed by Aiba’s sentry and some of Ohno’s men. Jun now knew that this spaceport was once an abandoned port, only put to use when Sho had decided to set his camp here. No one would look, Ohno had explained. The outskirts had no place for people of nobility.  
  
Jun had willed himself not to glance at Sho then.  
  
“We’re relieved to see you safe, Highness,” Aiba said after a bow. “We await your orders.”  
  
“Any casualties or happenings while I was absent?” Sho asked. He did a quick sweep of the people gathered around them and looked at Aiba once more. “I don’t see Toma.”  
  
“There’s been a delay with the supply of power cells from Cygni,” Aiba reported. “I ordered him to take a look and return with the cells.”  
  
“Tell our contact in Cygni that I demand twenty more cells as compensation for the delay,” Sho said.  
  
Jun saw Aiba blink. “Twenty, Highness?” Aiba repeated. Had Jun been in Aiba’s place, he would’ve done the same. For a merchant, twenty power cells cost a fortune.  
  
“Yes, twenty,” Sho said. “If he refuses, tell him that his trade contract with Hamal won’t be renewed for the following year.”  
  
Jun thought that was a bit extreme, but when he opened his mouth, he caught the way Ohno was looking at him and closed his mouth, inclining his head begrudgingly in acceptance.  
  
“Understood, Highness,” Aiba said after a moment. “Will that be all?”  
  
Sho smiled. “Yes, that will be all, lieutenant. Dismissed.”  
  
Aiba gestured to the rest of his men, and they assumed lines and stepped aside, making way for Sho.  
  
“Keiko,” Sho greeted, and Jun saw a petite woman with her hair tied in a bun pulled so tight he could see the strain on her temples. Jun had never seen her on this camp before, and she looked regal, like her presence alone would be enough to silence a crowd despite being dressed in a battered down coat and trousers made of old leather. She looked younger than Jun, but there was something about her, with the way Sho had called her attention.  
  
Keiko put her fist over her heart and bowed. “Your Highness.”  
  
Sho turned to Jun, extending a hand towards the woman. “Matsumoto, this is Kitagawa, the head of my personal security. Keiko-chan, your new recruit.”  
  
The single indication of her surprise was the narrowing of her eyes. “The Saiphan?”  
  
“Yes, the Saiphan,” Sho said in confirmation, and he appeared amused at the idea. Jun supposed it was rather interesting for someone like Sho when the air around them turned tense. Everybody had heard what Sho had said. “You will find that he can shoot a phaser and actually hit the target. Not as skilled as you, of course, but he managed.”  
  
“I’ve heard what happened in Sheratan from the captain, Your Highness,” Keiko said. She looked displeased. “I advised you to take some of my men with you back when you received the transmission requesting your return.”  
  
“And I didn’t take heed and almost died,” Sho said. “Yes, I was wrong.” He only looked regretful for a second, the expression quickly replaced with a smile. “But I came back with a replacement.”  
  
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I will accept any punishment for my insolence, but with your permission,” Keiko began, and Jun saw Sho smile wider before nodding, “I don’t trust the Saiphan to uphold our mission in keeping you safe. Their people—”  
  
“—are bloodthirsty murderers who take our lands and lay claim on our mines,” Sho finished. “And yet, Matsumoto here has disarmed three assassins who found me when I was conveniently weakened by a poisoned dinner. I value your input, Keiko-chan, and I know you will never trust him. But you trust my decision, yes?”  
  
“You’ve been wrong before,” Keiko pointed out. She looked disapproving still, and not once did Jun catch her eye. She was glaring at Sho like she wanted to knock some sense into him.  
  
It was a look Jun could say he once sported on his face.  
  
“And if I’m wrong again, I will pass the Crown of Hamal to you as soon as I get it,” Sho said. Then his voice changed when he added, “It’s about time we find a replace for Nagase-kun, isn’t it?”  
  
Keiko fell silent then, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. When she opened them again, she finally looked at Jun.  
  
“As you wish, Your Highness,” she said.  
  
Sho turned to face him. “Do whatever she says, whatever she asks for. When your duties are done, report back to me. Understood?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, his lips hardly moving.  
  
“Ninomiya,” Sho said, looking past Jun.  
  
“Yeah?” Ninomiya asked cheekily. He’d been standing behind Ohno, the both of them somewhere behind Jun, and Jun saw some of the men take insult at his reply, glaring at Ninomiya, but there were others who were simply appalled.  
  
“You’re a skilled navigator,” Sho said.  
  
“Glad you think so,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“You’re being transferred to Aiba’s division,” Sho said. “Aiba-chan, I want him in the shipyard. If there are faulty navigation systems in any of our spacecrafts, make him fix it.” To Ninomiya, he said, “And if there are any other skills you possess regarding spacecrafts, I want them utilized.”  
  
“You can’t afford me,” Ninomiya said, grinning.  
  
“Yes, I can,” Sho said confidently. “Now that you’re part of the shipyard, you no longer have to stay in the tents Ohno’s men are provided with.”  
  
Jun looked over his shoulder and saw how Ninomiya was considering that offer. Aiba’s men had more privileges and better facilities. In Jun’s stay there, he’d never had to bathe with fourteen other men simultaneously.  
  
“And you can shave that stubble that seems to irritate you every now and then,” Sho said. “Aiba’s sentry is provided with the proper tools for that.”  
  
For a moment, Jun was impressed. He’d seen Ninomiya scratch his cheek once in a while in the ship. Little things that Jun hadn’t paid any mind, but apparently they had meant something.  
  
“All right, princeling,” Ninomiya agreed. “And that’s only because I miss sonic showers.”  
  
“That will be all,” Sho said, raising his voice so he’d be heard by everyone. “Thank you for the welcome. I am pleased to return. Return to your stations, perform your duties. Satoshi-kun, Keiko-chan, with me.”  
  
“Report to the dome beside His Highness’,” Keiko said to him after she’d nodded at Sho’s beckoning. “Don’t do anything until I come back.”  
  
“Understood,” Jun said, and like the rest of the men, he went off. If he felt any of the stares directed at him, he noted that they were an improvement over the last time. There was less contempt and anger; curiosity had replaced it.  
  
Jun knew what might be going on in the minds of most men, and that no matter what he said, they wouldn’t believe him.  
  
Let them talk, he thought. He’d earned a place here now. No matter what he did, they’d keep talking.  
  
\--  
  
Jun never noticed the dome Keiko had indicated, but there was indeed a smaller one standing next to Sho’s. Sho had his at the center of the camp and it was perhaps the largest, effectively concealing the smaller one that stood close to it.  
  
The doors hissed open quietly after Jun stood in the line of sight of the security camera. He saw no console that would require his identity, so he assumed there was someone who’d let him in.  
  
There was a short corridor just beyond, and when Jun reached the center, he found it to be full of bunk beds.  
  
It was like a dormitory. He saw a few men and women having a chat, and they all halted when he came in.  
  
This, Jun was accustomed to. People went silent in the presence of a prince.  
  
“You’re Nagase-san’s replacement?” one of them asked.  
  
Jun kept hearing that name but had no idea what had truly happened to him. He could remember Ikuta first mentioning the name in front of Aiba and Kazama, but nothing more.  
  
“What happened to him?” Jun asked.  
  
They seemed to stop at the realization that they were talking to a Saiphan. Jun noticed the tension in the air that had followed his query and said, “It’s none of my business.”  
  
“Killed,” one of them replied, a woman who sat at the edge of her bed. She had the top bunk, and Jun had to look up at her to see her face. Her long hair was tied to a bun like Keiko’s, but she looked younger than Keiko, her appearance more slender. “He was sent to a surveillance mission. He reported about the status of the mines your planet took from us, but he got followed.”  
  
“The Emperor Apparent disapproved of all reconnaissance missions after that,” one man said. He was taller than Jun but leaner in built, and he eyed Jun with distrust. Jun was familiar to the sight of it by now.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jun found himself saying, regret making him look down in shame. Had he known the truth, the extent of his father’s measures, he could’ve prevented it from happening entirely. He’d had power then.  
  
“Your people killed him,” one of them said, the tone accusatory.  
  
“Yes, and I’m sorry,” Jun said.  
  
“Are you here to atone or to replace him?” the same woman from earlier asked. She tilted her head in question.  
  
“The future emperor introduced me to the head of his security as a replacement,” Jun said.  
  
“Yes, we’ve received word of that. We didn’t join the welcoming because Keiko-san said the spaceport was too small for all of the men to fit inside,” the same woman told him.  
  
“What exactly did Nagase-san do?” Jun asked. If he was going to replace a man, he knew they’d expect him to be like him or be better than him even.  
  
The faces around him were full of surprise for a moment.  
  
Then, the woman said, “He was His Highness’ personal bodyguard. He went wherever His Highness was, did whatever he asked. He reported directly to him.”  
  
At the look on Jun’s face, the man from earlier nodded. “Yes, now you understand why it didn’t make sense to any of us, even to the ones present there. What sort of emperor would make his sworn enemy the man whom he trusts with his life the most?”  
  
There was no one like him in the galaxy, Jun thought.  
  
“Your future emperor,” Jun said.  
  
\--  
  
Keiko did no introduction; she claimed there wasn’t any time for it as soon as she had returned. She gave Jun a quick tour of the dome and outlined the training that he’d go through the following day.  
  
The woman from earlier was introduced as Kiko, and she was the only one who showed Jun a somewhat friendly demeanor. Her reason had been “He’s part of us now. If he was the one who killed Nagase-san, he would be dead by now on the Emperor Apparent’s word,” when asked.  
  
Kiko was the training commander, and Keiko boasted that no one in Sho’s personal security has matched her agility. It would be Kiko who would personally oversee the extent of Jun’s skills, and his sword training would be with her.  
  
The guns, meanwhile, were Keiko’s specialty.  
  
“His Highness said you can fire a phaser adequately,” Keiko said to him later when she took him to the mess hall. They ate in the same dome as Aiba’s men did; only Ohno’s were kept separate.  
  
“Yes,” Jun affirmed.  
  
“Left or right?”  
  
“Right,” Jun said. “I favor my right.”  
  
“For now, you do. In two months, it’ll be both,” Keiko said. “Same with your swordhand. You have two hands; I need two hands. How’s your footwork?”  
  
“Rusty but I had military training,” Jun said. He had the best of his men teach him personally. He took pride in what he’d learned.  
  
Keiko regarded him after that. “His Highness never said that.”  
  
“He never knew,” Jun said. He only told Aiba, Ikuta, and Kazama. Ohno had known of course; he had implemented the drills back when Jun had stayed in his division. Jun suspected that it was that ability of his that had convinced Ohno to bring him along to Sheratan.  
  
“When you finish your dinner, we go to the floor,” Keiko said.  
  
The floor meant that Keiko wanted a demonstration of Jun’s abilities. As soon as Jun finished his early dinner, he returned to the dome and found that all the beds had been pushed to the side to make space and several mats had been laid out.  
  
“Dress down and get ready,” Keiko said. She lost the coat and wore a training overall now, and she walked towards the center of the mats.  
  
“I have to fight you in front of everyone?” Jun asked. He did as Keiko directed, discarding his shirt and leaving only his trousers on, standing in the middle before her.  
  
“Call it an initiation or whatever you will,” Keiko said. “I call it a study. I need to see what you can do. Everybody needs to see what you can do. We all have our own specialties here. If you’re to be His Highness’ personal bodyguard, you will have to be as good as more than half of us combined.”  
  
That was a lot of pressure on Jun’s shoulders. But he was used to pressure, to being challenged. When he’d been named Crown Prince, much had been expected of him. He’d had to rise above them.  
  
“I won’t go easy on you,” Keiko said. Despite her small built, when she assumed her stance, Jun was a little intimidated. “I didn’t earn my place here by going easy on people.”  
  
Jun understood. Hamal was still traditional in some ways. Women weren’t granted the same privileges as men—they had to earn it. Even Sho’s mother had to fight for her crown.  
  
“I never expected you to do so,” Jun said. He braced himself, and when Keiko moved, he discovered that she was quick on her feet and focused on her attacks. Her jabs were aimed right where it would hurt; all the vulnerable spots that could only sustain a few hits.  
  
If he wasn’t careful, he’d be seeing Okada in the next few minutes.  
  
He blocked all the blows he could catch, and he found out that Keiko was the type to change her strategy immediately when her first approach didn’t work. She looked nimble as she moved, but her swift-footed spins and ducks soon confused Jun, and he left an opening unintentionally.  
  
She hit hard. Jun had to take a step back when she made contact with his side, a hand flying to the now sore spot. Keiko then dropped to the ground and swept her legs under Jun’s, and Jun quickly lost his footing.  
  
He fell on his back and Keiko stood over him, her head tilted.  
  
“You don’t watch your back,” she commented. “You have the skills, I’ll give you that, but you don’t guard yourself enough.”  
  
The last time Jun had sparred with someone, they had been with his trusted men. They’d never hurt him, and it had given him the confidence to attack without holding back. Defense hadn’t been his priority. But things were different now; he had someone to protect now.  
  
“Also,” Keiko said, “were you holding back?”  
  
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jun said.  
  
“You can’t hurt me,” Keiko told him immediately, flatly. “But if you hesitate again, it’s not only your life that’s at stake. It’s his life as well, His Highness’. If he dies and you do not, I guarantee that I will kill you myself for failing to perform your duty.”  
  
Keiko offered a hand to pull him up and he accepted, and he was surprised at the strength she had. For such a small built compared to his own, she packed a lot of force and stamina. That was something that could only be achieved through years of hard work and training.  
  
Wherever Keiko came from, she’d worked tirelessly and true to earn a spot here, a position of tremendous honor.  
  
“One more,” Sho said.  
  
They all turned to the direction of the voice, and Jun found Sho leaning against one of the bunk beds shoved to the side, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“Your Highness,” Keiko said in greeting while their audience bowed their heads in respect. “My apologies; we didn’t notice you were here.”  
  
“Which means you put up a very interesting show, Keiko-chan. Another,” Sho said genially. Jun hadn’t thought Sho could sound like that to anyone.  
  
“As you wish,” Keiko said, and she turned to Jun. “Give it everything you’ve got.”  
  
“Everything?” Jun asked, but his voice was softer now; only Keiko could hear him.  
  
“Did you think he’s here for me? He’s seen me fight countless times,” Keiko said.  
  
That was all she said before she went for the first jab, her fist making contact against Jun’s breastbone. Jun staggered but he caught himself, and he fended off her subsequent blows by meeting them head on. Keiko didn’t block his blows; she evaded them because she was lighter and quicker than him. If speed was the basis alone, Jun knew he’d lose to her.  
  
But it was speed and strength and skill that they were after—that Sho was after. Jun could feel Sho watching intently, and he was overcome with the desire to prove himself. His days in Ohno’s camp had hardened him, taught him endurance. He could last in this ring.  
  
The first blow he was able to land hit Keiko square in the stomach. She compensated for the impact by putting her weight on her heels, but she still took a couple of steps back.  
  
“Like that,” Keiko said, and Jun saw her smile for the first time.  
  
Her fist collided with his jaw, and Jun shielded himself from the subsequent blow by taking the impact on his forearm. He retaliated with a kick aiming for her side, but she sidestepped it easily and jammed her elbow into Jun’s back.  
  
Jun was nearly sent to his knees, and he looked at her in confusion.  
  
“Whoever’s going to kill you won’t play fair,” she said. “You will do well to forget honor in such fights.”  
  
“This is a spar,” Jun said.  
  
“No,” Keiko said. She looked past Jun, to where Sho stood watching. “This is your training, and it has begun.”  
  
Jun stopped sticking to the rules of a fair fight then. He delivered punches where he knew it’d hurt, where it’d likely bruise if they made contact. He trusted in Keiko’s abilities to evade and hit back as hard as he could, till the impact of every punch he’d delivered traveled up his shoulder because of the strain.  
  
By the end of it, Jun was sweating, his muscles aching in places. His left side, the one he’d guarded the least, would likely bruise. Keiko was adept at finding weaknesses in such a short span of time. So far, the only weakness Jun had seen in her was the strength of her punches. Compared to his, they had less force in them, but that didn’t make them less deadly. She knew where to hit.  
  
“Well, Keiko-chan?” Sho asked, and they all faced him.  
  
“Yes,” Keiko said, nodding. She wiped a trail of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand. “There’s still room for improvement, but we can do something about that. I think he’s an adequate replacement.”  
  
“Adequate,” Sho repeated with a smile. “Must you be so severe with your criticisms over my choices every time?”  
  
“I specifically told you not to return to Sheratan alone. To take one or two of us with you,” Keiko said, and she directed a disapproving look at Sho.  
  
“Ah, that again,” Sho said, scoffing. “Had I followed your advice, Nagase-kun’s spot will still be empty, no?”  
  
“If you wanted a bodyguard, I could have arranged a roster for you to choose from,” Keiko said.  
  
“But I didn’t want just any bodyguard,” Sho said. His eyes met Jun’s. “Freshen up and report back to me as soon as you’re done.”  
  
Sho left then, and as soon as they could no longer see his figure, Jun heard one of the men behind him ask, “So they’re fucking?”  
  
Jun sighed in combined exhaustion and annoyance. When he lifted his gaze, Keiko was looking at him.  
  
“We’re not,” he said. “I just saved his life, that’s all.”  
  
Keiko inclined her head in reply and said to the rest of the people gathered, “You heard him. Enough of this gossip; we’re not shipyard workers or runaway criminals. We’re the Emperor Apparent’s personal guard, and this is the last time I will allow such talk in here. Are we clear?”  
  
“Crystal,” everyone around them said in affirmation, and the crowd began to disperse.  
  
Jun left for the sonic showers, intending for it to be quick so he could report immediately to Sho. The less time he spent with Sho, the better. The man was still infuriating, his thought processes highly unpredictable. Jun never understood why he did what he’d done.  
  
He was the most difficult man Jun had met in his life, but also the one keeping him alive at present. Months ago, Sho had wanted him to die. And now he seemed to have trusted Jun with his life, but a part of Jun wondered if it was all a trick. He wouldn’t put it past someone like Sho.  
  
It would help, Jun thought, if he could ask the man himself about these things. But Jun figured he wouldn’t like whatever answer; Sho knew how to annoy him.  
  
He treated his shower as a form of mental preparation. It was Sho he’d be dealing with next. Given the choice, he’d choose Keiko’s punches over Sho’s words.  
  
He dressed quickly, back in the tunic and the trousers commonly worn by people in the camp, and made his way to Sho’s dome without enthusiasm.  
  
\--  
  
“You can fight,” was how Sho welcomed him as soon as he entered the settlement.  
  
“Did you have any doubts regarding that?” Jun asked.  
  
Sho was standing behind the same table Jun had seen the last time, only that its surface was now devoid of pads. Instead, the items on the surface were one pad, two sets of phasers, one plasma gun, and a saber. Sho was touching the plasma gun idly, fingers dancing to an irregular rhythm on its surface.  
  
Sho hummed, and Jun knew his question would go unanswered. “You seem larger since the last time,” Sho said. “Especially around the shoulders.”  
  
Jun suddenly felt self-conscious. The tunic that he wore was loose on him, and Sho had to be referring to how his body had looked like back in the floor with Keiko earlier.  
  
“Thank Ohno’s morning drills for that,” he said. Then he frowned. “You didn’t ask me to come here to talk about my figure.”  
  
“No, I asked you to come here because I wanted you to put on these,” Sho said, and he reached under the table to place a set of clothes on top of the table. There were trousers and a thick jacket, both of which were made of leather, but unlike the ones Jun had worn in Sheratan, these looked new. Recently made.  
  
“They were for Nagase-kun,” Sho explained. “I never opened them because when they arrived here; he was already gone. Since you’re replacing him, I thought I might as well put you in clothes that’ll signify your status here.”  
  
Jun examined the clothes he’d been given, and he saw numerous secret pockets. Unfolding the jacket revealed that there were utility belts chucked inside it, and when he looked at Sho once more, Sho placed a pair of boots on top of the table. Everything looked preordered, and Jun wondered if they’d been intended as a birthday present.  
  
The next thing Sho lifted was the armor, a fitted chest piece that would serve to block most phaser fires or any kind of blows. As long as a saber didn’t pierce through it, the worse Jun would sustain were bruises.  
  
“This is all of it?” Jun asked.  
  
“Not quite,” Sho said. He fished for something inside his pocket, and he offered his palm to Jun.  
  
It was his crest. Jun could recognize Sho’s personal crest on the badge, a seasonal flower engraved in neutronium alloy.  
  
“My personal bodyguard is distinguished among all my men,” Sho said. “You can wear the clothes, but they won’t truly mean a thing unless you wear this as well.”  
  
Jun took the badge and pinned it on his tunic, the sensation strange and unfamiliar. He’d never required anybody’s protection before.  
  
“Are we done?” Jun asked.  
  
“That eager to leave?” Sho asked back.  
  
“Every time I’m in a room with you, we always engage in a verbal battle,” Jun said.  
  
“Do you want to have one now?”  
  
He thought about it, and he knew it wouldn’t be worth the exhaustion.  
  
Sighing, he said, “Just get this over with.”  
  
Sho powered on the pad, and Jun tried not to look too surprised at his apparent cooperation. Sho shoved the pad in front of him, and Jun picked it up.  
  
“You can read Denebian, yes?” Sho asked.  
  
“I can,” Jun said, eyes already scanning over the characters. The Denebian language favored symbols, and each symbol corresponded to a three-letter word. Every word in their language consisted of three letters in the common tongue, and it made the translation challenging. Jun had loathed the language out of all that he had to learn. But he’d learned it.  
  
“Read what it says then.”  
  
Jun lifted his eyes to meet Sho’s and asked, “Do you require a translation?”  
  
“No, one translation refusal from you was quite enough, thank you. Besides, I already read it.”  
  
Jun resumed reading, and it took him a few moments to piece together the facts. This was a private transmission, granting Sho’s request for a private audience with the Denebian queen. There were no other details aside from the meeting place and the appointed time.  
  
“You want me to come with you,” Jun concluded as soon as he returned the pad to Sho.  
  
“No, I _expect_ you to come with me,” Sho said. “Have you ever met the Denebian queen?”  
  
Jun shook his head. “She was notorious for refusing the Saiphan royalty given her distrust of men.” Realizing his mistake, he added, “Denebia never dealt with Saiphans in any of their trading affairs. In general, I think they hate our planet.” Amusement glazed over Sho’s eyes at that statement. “How did you get her to grant you audience? The Saiphan king never managed to.”  
  
“Then it’s fortunate that I am not the late Saiphan king,” Sho said, answering nothing at all.  
  
Jun supposed he better get used to Sho not answering any of his questions. He was no longer a prince; he couldn’t demand for anything even if it frustrated him.  
  
“When do we leave?” he asked instead.  
  
“When Keiko allows us to,” Sho said. “In two weeks, perhaps.”  
  
“Two weeks from now? You’re her future emperor.”  
  
“It’s not me she has doubts about.”  
  
It sank in, and Jun wanted to sigh. “You intend to leave with just the two of us.”  
  
“Actually, my initial plan was to leave on my own,” Sho said.  
  
“You can’t,” Jun said immediately. “Not after Sheratan.”  
  
“Exactly, that’s why I’m forced to take you,” Sho said. “Do you think I want you to come along? I’m taking you because I have to.”  
  
“You don’t have to if you didn’t make me your personal bodyguard,” Jun pointed out.  
  
“Because I was starting to fear for my men,” Sho told him. “I thought I had to keep a close eye on you. You already punched one of them, didn’t you? I heard that you nearly killed him.”  
  
“That’s an exaggeration,” Jun said.  
  
“Regardless if that word was embellished or not, I have to take you along to protect my men and keep Keiko’s sanity intact. This inconveniences me greatly, I’ll have you know.”  
  
“Why? Because you’re so used to doing everything on your own?”  
  
Sho gave him a look. “I don’t really need you. Do you think the Denebian queen will have me killed?”  
  
“She doesn’t trust men,” Jun said. Rina had always said that was rather clever of the Denebian queen. “It’s a miracle you got her to trust you.”  
  
“I have my ways,” Sho said. “I can make her talk to me if that’s your concern.”  
  
“That’s not my concern,” Jun told him. “My concern is that your initial plan is to run off again, as if you’re not an important figure in this camp. If something happens to you, what do you think will happen to the rest of your men, to this camp? You’re not thinking like a leader; you’re thinking like…”  
  
Sho eyed him. “Like?”  
  
Jun remembered Ohno’s words and said in a quiet voice, “Like a key player.”  
  
“How do you think I survived all these years?” Sho asked.  
  
“Do you even know your place in this chessboard you’re playing in?” Jun didn’t even know whose board it was they were in; all he knew was that every soldier in this camp was perhaps a pawn for whoever orchestrated this game.  
  
“Yes,” Sho said confidently. “Do you?”  
  
“Yes,” he answered with equal determination. The badge on his chest felt heavier for reasons he couldn’t name. “I promised I’ll help you. That is my place.” By your side if that was what was needed, he didn’t say.  
  
Sho regarded him, and Jun stood his ground. He’d never go back on his word. Here, he was part of something, had something to fight for.  
  
“Can you take us to Denebia?” Sho asked after the silence had passed.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. “Without Ninomiya, it’ll take longer, but you won’t be late if we leave soon.”  
  
“How long?” Sho asked.  
  
“Three days maximum,” Jun said. “You’ll be late if we wait for two weeks, and I’d wager the Denebian queen will take no excuses and bar all communication with you should that happen.”  
  
Sho looked at him and smiled, and Jun braced himself. Nothing good had come out of Sho directing a smile at him.  
  
“Then you have a week.” Jun couldn’t hide his surprise, and Sho continued, “I’m giving you an entire week to convince Keiko that you can be trusted to come with me. I don’t care if you have to defeat all her men and women to do it. Get it done. Are we clear on this?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said with his chin high. He could do it. He knew that if he failed this, Sho would leave on his own. It was very likely that no one else knew about this Denebian transmission. Sho would perhaps come up with a lie or claim he’d been summoned by his mother, and Jun couldn’t let that happen.  
  
As stubborn as the man was, Sho was needed here. The sooner his business with Denebia was concluded, the better.  
  
“You seem very confident,” Sho said after a moment.  
  
Jun leveled Sho’s gaze with one of his own.  
  
“Watch me.”  
  
\--  
  
“Denebia?” was how Keiko welcomed Jun the following morning. Jun supposed Sho had told her and no one else.  
  
“I have seven days to get your approval,” Jun said. They were in the artillery, and Keiko was scheduled to orient him about marksmanship. Now she had to teach everything to him in less than a week.  
  
“You need more than seven days,” she said immediately. Jun appreciated her honesty. If that was Keiko’s assessment of him, all he had to do was to prove her wrong.  
  
Keiko lifted a plasma gun, its base resting on her shoulder, and took aim. She handed the gun to Jun and Jun imitated her as best as he could.  
  
“Relax,” Keiko said.  
  
“I’m supposed to relax when I’m about to shoot someone?” Jun asked.  
  
“Yes,” Keiko said. “So you don’t miss. Every charge counts in the field, Matsumoto. Aim for the head if you can. If not, the heart. If not possible, the lower back, near the end of the spine.”  
  
Jun looked at her for an explanation and she added, “Damage the spine and they can’t walk.”  
  
“But they can still shoot,” Jun pointed out.  
  
“That’s why you aim for the head first,” Keiko said. “What did you use in Sheratan when you saved his life?”  
  
Jun lowered the plasma gun and picked up two handheld phasers of the similar type as the ones he’d used then. He remembered surrendering the weapons to Ohno before their arrival here. He didn’t know what became of them.  
  
Keiko only gave a brief, passing glance over the weapons. “And where did you hit them?”  
  
“The chest, I think,” Jun said. He didn’t really remember; he was only after the result. “Enough to knock them out.”  
  
She took one phaser from him and flipped the switch from stun to kill. Jun’s breath caught at the sight of it. “This is how it’s going to be most of the time. You said you have an entire week and you’re off to do whatever he asks you to do? Then I’m not going to teach you how to stun people. You have to learn how to kill them.”  
  
“What do you think of when you kill?” Jun asked. He had no judgments; he was simply curious. He’d heard that men think of different things. Some think of cutting or shooting down animals since the idea was easier to bear when you still have a conscience. Some think of it as it is.  
  
But Keiko wasn’t a man, and Jun truly wanted to know.  
  
“My duty,” she said. “I have to protect him because no one else can protect us, his people. If I fail to do that, I fail my people, my planet. I think of the oath I swore to him on the day he chose me instead of all the men they put in the roster for him.” Jun could see the pride in her eyes. “He chose me when his mother’s council gave him twenty good men to choose from.”  
  
“Did he ever tell you his reason?” Jun asked.  
  
Keiko picked up both phasers and aimed, and Jun watched as she hit the practice targets in the head twice on the same spot.  
  
Jun was stunned. He knew he couldn’t do that.  
  
“I’m the best there is,” Keiko said. She wasn’t bragging, merely telling the truth. “But they looked down on me because I am a woman. He didn’t. He acknowledged my skill, granted me the honor I deserved.” She held the barrel of the phaser and pressed its grip against Jun’s chest. “Show me why he chose you.”  
  
She was looking at his badge as she said that. Jun almost told her that Sho had chosen him out of convenience, so Sho could watch over him. That it was all the other way around.  
  
“I can’t do what you just did,” Jun admitted, taking the phaser anyway. He aimed, and he felt Keiko’s gaze on him.  
  
“That’s what I’m here for,” she told him. “Straighten out your arm, but don’t make it stiff. Good. Relax your shoulders.”  
  
Jun took a deep breath and aimed for the target’s head. He fired off one charge, and it hit the target’s neck instead.  
  
“Don’t close one eye,” Keiko said. “That’s the common mistake.”  
  
“That’s what they taught me in Saiph,” Jun said.  
  
“And your teacher then was a man,” Keiko said. “If you close one eye, the remaining eye’s focus shifts to compensate for the lack of the other visual field. Open both and you aim true.”  
  
Jun did as she told him, aimed again, and hit the target’s chin this time.  
  
“Women know better,” said Keiko, and Jun found himself nodding.  
  
\--  
  
The first few days of learning that Jun had was spent with him pushing himself to the extreme. Keiko was relentless in correcting his grip and stance. She had him do away with most of what he’d learned. In Saiph, Jun had been taught because he’d wished for it. The captain who’d taught Jun had Jun learn side-by-side with his son, and as teenagers, they’d practiced on one another. The captain’s son eventually became the captain of Jun’s personal guard, sworn to protect him in times of need.  
  
Jun would remember him whenever he followed Keiko’s advice. With each aim, each gun he lifted, each shot he fired, he’d remember his men, those that Sho had claimed were likely dead. In his heart, he hoped for otherwise, but he knew Sho’s words to be true. He didn’t remember seeing his captain that night.  
  
“Again,” Keiko said, and she kept repeating that every time Jun got it right. Even though Jun’s muscles ached, he did as she asked and persevered.  
  
He had to crouch then aim, roll over his back and aim. Each time, Keiko would correct the angle of his weapon, help him see things in her eyes. She was more than capable, and Jun could see why Sho had chosen her. Her stature and built were designed to fool opponents into belittling her.  
  
By the third night, Keiko had dinner brought to them since they were far from done. Over bread and a few pieces of meat and some corn that had to be imported from somewhere, Jun found the courage to ask.  
  
“Do you think I have to kill soldiers in Denebia?”  
  
He didn’t want to. If he could, he’d stun them all.  
  
“I think you have to be ready either way,” Keiko said.  
  
“Denebia is a planet governed by women. Their queen never accepted the Saiphan king’s request for an audience because she didn’t trust him. And in a couple of days, I’m going there with your future emperor, and we’re both men.”  
  
Keiko finished all of the corn on her plate before she spoke. “My husband is out there, doing reconnaissance.”  
  
Jun stared at her. Sho had never mentioned anything about this.  
  
“His Highness trusted him with serving as a patrol around Denebian territory, in case the Saiphans set their eyes on having Denebia as their ally.” Jun saw a flash of Keiko’s smile for a moment. “After Nagase-san, reconnaissance work was forbidden by the Emperor Apparent. But my husband was insistent; he was a spy before, you see.”  
  
“He allowed your husband to go?”  
  
“He didn’t,” Keiko said. “I did.” She faced Jun, her eyes set with conviction. “We gave His Highness no choice on the matter.”  
  
“Did he punish you for it?”  
  
Keiko snorted, and she looked close to laughing. “Yes. Quite recently, in fact.” She pointed at Jun. “He gave me you.”  
  
Jun nodded in understanding. There were things only Sho would do, and as always, Jun only realized them once they were in place.  
  
“You don’t understand,” Keiko said.  
  
“No, I understand perfectly,” Jun said. “I’m a burden right now because you have to make me better before the week ends and you have to hand over the rest of my training to Kiko-san. You spent most of this day trying to undo what I’ve learned because they’re wrong—they’re all principles of an honorable fight. And I should stop expecting honor in this war.”  
  
Keiko frowned. “That’s not why.”  
  
Jun blinked at her in question.  
  
“You’re the punishment because you’re very different from my husband,” Keiko told him. “He’s out there doing what he does because he knows he has to do it. You, on the other hand, you hesitate. You know what you have to do, but you doubt that you can do it.”  
  
“I’m not a killer,” Jun said.  
  
“War makes killers of us all,” Keiko said. “I don’t know what happened to you and how you got here, but you’re part of this now. You’re here, you’re wearing his crest, you have blisters on your fingers and feet marking the duration of your stay here. You’re involved, but a part of you wants to back out.”  
  
“Is it so bad to not want for people to suffer?” Jun asked. Maybe he’d been naïve when he’d been Crown Prince. But he had wishes then, and he’d once thought that when he became king, he’d strive for diplomacy before war. “With my hesitation is a life or two spared.”  
  
“And your own ended,” Keiko said. “If you don’t kill, they will do it first. They will kill all you love, leave you with nothing.”  
  
Jun couldn’t help a bitter laugh from escaping. “They already have.”  
  
Keiko fell silent at that, and Jun didn’t dare look at her. He was afraid she’d see through him, who he was. It was a miracle nobody had yet realized who he was.  
  
“Then there will be a repeat of it,” Keiko said softly. “You fight and you give it all you’ve got because you have to prevent that.”  
  
“There’s no one,” Jun said quietly. “They left no one. They’re all gone. I’m all alone.”  
  
It was the first time he’d addressed it.  
  
“You have that,” Keiko said, and she delivered a weak punch to the badge resting on Jun’s heart. The impact was nothing compared to how hard Keiko had hit him before, but it resonated within Jun, waking every nerve ending. “He doesn’t give that to just anyone.”  
  
Jun looked at her, and she appeared to know what he was about to say. Perhaps she did.  
  
“What was Nagase-san like?”  
  
It won him Keiko’s soft smile. “I was terrified of him when we first met. He was a large man. He was intimidating. But he was a delight, and he made all celebrations worth celebrating. He treated His Highness like a little brother he had to protect, and that made him fiercely loyal to him. Nagase-san was our best in hand-to-hand combat.”  
  
Jun knew that whoever once held the badge he had on now, he had to be someone amazing.  
  
“I’ll never be like him,” Jun said.  
  
Keiko regarded him. “Why do you say that?”  
  
“Because it’s true.”  
  
“No, why do _you_ say that? No one expects you to be Nagase-san. You’re not even half the size that he was. You’re never going to be him.”  
  
“I appreciate your honesty.”  
  
Keiko shook her head and sighed. “Men,” she said to herself in slight exasperation. “What I meant to say, Matsumoto, is that no one is waiting for you turn out like Nagase-san. If anything, I don’t want you to be like him.”  
  
“You said he was one of your best,” Jun reminded her.  
  
“Yes, he was, and he still died,” Keiko said. “Do you think I want you to die?”  
  
“You won’t be the first person if that were the case.”  
  
“If you die, I want it to be in the line of duty. Because you were protecting him, because you were by his side risking your life for his.” She looked at his chest. “That’s what the badge means. It means you’re not alone, and neither is he.”  
  
Jun let out a breath. “I didn’t ask for any of this, you know.” When he’d been a little boy, he’d often pretended he was king despite knowing Rina was in line of the throne before he was.  
  
Looking back, Jun thought that perhaps, he hadn’t come so far from that little boy. He still required validation in everything he did. He wasn’t the bravest nor the best of men. He wasn’t a warrior hero. But in hindsight, Sho had never asked for any of these either.  
  
All that Sho had asked from him was to be ready in a week.  
  
And Jun had promised him that he would be.  
  
Jun stood and cleared their table before giving Keiko a determined stare.  
  
“I need to know how to not leave my left unguarded,” he said.  
  
Keiko grinned and jerked her head to the side. “Then let’s do more target practice, this time with your left hand.”  
  
\--  
  
It was well past midnight by the time Jun made it back to Sho’s settlement.  
  
“If you have the badge, you stay where he is,” Keiko had told him. Jun had slept in the dome beside Sho’s the nights before, and he hadn’t thought of the possibility until Keiko had ordered him to pack his belongings.  
  
But where else was he supposed to be? He was Sho’s personal bodyguard now. It would explain all the stares he’d gotten from Sho’s personal security that morning. They had to be wondering why he hadn’t spent the first night in Sho’s dome.  
  
He took care to make his steps lighter as he entered, and he found Sho still awake, perusing over pads, a few holograms turned on and spinning before his eyes.  
  
“You didn’t sleep,” Jun said in greeting.  
  
“I don’t sleep,” Sho said. He didn’t look at Jun. “How was your training with Keiko-chan?  
  
“Productive.”  
  
“She didn’t get angry at you?”  
  
Jun frowned. He’d spent the days trying to avoid that, and he liked to think he’d succeeded. “Because you were trying to punish her through me? She told me.”  
  
Sho smiled, his eyes fixed on the pad in his hands. “I can think of only one reason why she did that. You were being stubborn and hardheaded, as always.”  
  
“You of all people would know how to behave like that.”  
  
Sho waved his hand in dismissal. “Get some sleep. You’re obviously exhausted; your comebacks aren’t so interesting anymore.”  
  
Jun left him after briefly checking their surroundings, and he found a decent-sized sleeping bag a few feet from Sho’s bed. Sho’s dome functioned more as a temporary house, except that it also had a study area where Sho often stayed. Jun assumed he’d held meetings with his captain and lieutenants there, had strategized and planned and rationalized.  
  
Since Sho seemed busy with whatever he was doing, Jun decided to make himself familiar with Sho’s surroundings. This dome would be his sleeping quarters now. He had to know its every nook and cranny. The chances of someone attempting on Sho’s life while they remained here were low, but better not to be too trustworthy. Most of the men here still bore a grudge on Jun and his people. They might set him up.  
  
He found a few personal belongings in Sho’s bathroom, and Jun decided that he’d have his baths in the other dome with the rest of Keiko’s men. There was no kitchen since Sho had his meals brought to him straight from the mess hall, but there was a mini library of sorts, filled with books.  
  
Books were considered ancient in Saiph. Pads were the modern vessels of knowledge, but Jun as a kid had craved the warmth that books had emitted. The pages had felt different from the smooth glass surfaces and holograms. With books, he had to rely on his imagination. He’d felt as if he was granted more freedom with them.  
  
For a moment, he wondered if it was the same for Sho. But there would be no point asking; the man would never answer him honestly.  
  
He picked up an old tome about legends from the Old World and went to where Sho was.  
  
“Come to say good night?” Sho asked, not sparing him a glance.  
  
Jun ignored that question. He raised the book. “I’m borrowing this. Just letting you know so you won’t think that someone stole it from you.”  
  
Sho lifted his gaze from the pad to look at his hand, eyes narrowing. “Reading before bedtime?”  
  
“An old habit,” said Jun. He was about to leave, but Sho’s voice stopped him.  
  
“Do you read often? Before you got here, of course.”  
  
Jun’s mind was screaming at him to excuse himself. He had an early start a few hours from now with Kiko, and he was sufficiently exhausted from all his training with Keiko.  
  
But he didn’t want to be rude. He’d been rude enough, and Sho still haven’t had him killed for any of it.  
  
“I did,” he said. “I prefer books more than pads or holograms though.”  
  
“Your people always referred to mine as traditional,” Sho said. “But that also meant that we had more books than you did.”  
  
“I know. I’ve seen your royal library. Well, had a glimpse of it.” He turned, and he saw confusion on Sho’s face. He decided it was a good look on Sho. For once, Sho didn’t know everything. “Back then.”  
  
“How did you know I frequent the library?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun blinked at that. “I didn’t. I checked the place just in case.” His grip on the tome tightened, and he thought, why not? “Do you read often? Books, not pads.”  
  
Sho regarded at him for a brief moment. “Yes. It comes with being the heir. But eventually, it became a habit.”  
  
“Have you read this then?” Jun lifted the book once more.  
  
“More than thrice,” Sho said.  
  
“Any recommendations?”  
  
Jun thought Sho would give him a rebuff or a scoff and braced himself for it, but when Sho spoke after what appeared to be careful consideration, he said, “The Old World once had an ancient civilization they called Greeks. I enjoyed reading their myths.”  
  
Jun skimmed through a couple of pages and found an entire chapter divided into sections. “I’ll go check it out,” he said, nodding. He hesitated but added, “Good night,” before turning to leave.  
  
He hadn’t thought he would receive a reply, but then:  
  
“Good night,” Sho said in return, and it was the kindest thing Jun had heard from him.  
  
\--  
  
If Keiko had been exacting with her corrections regarding Jun’s form, Kiko’s approach was different.  
  
She handed Jun a staff made of polished oak and told him to treat it like a saber. Jun had held sabers before, and he trusted his swordhand to be stable and for his upper body to bear the weight and force as necessary. He’d been told his broad shoulders were good in absorbing the shock from blows.  
  
“Keiko-chan told me you were fast at picking up and know how to follow instructions,” Kiko said brightly. She seemed to smile all the time now that they were alone. They were at the clearing located at the edge of the camp, and aside from the staffs, they had nothing else but the sabers and a few jugs of water.  
  
“I did learn most of what she was trying to teach me,” Jun said. He wasn’t stellar, but he did well.  
  
“I wouldn’t trust you yet with a rifle because the recoil isn’t something you can compensate for as of the moment, but he was right: you can fire a phaser,” Keiko had said.  
  
Kiko hummed and nodded to herself, spinning her staff idly. “I don’t teach like Keiko-chan. And if you think she’s exhausted you, I intend to do twice of that.”  
  
Once, Jun would have turned such a thing to an innuendo, especially when he had to put his charm to work.  
  
If he did that now, he was almost a hundred percent certain Kiko would murder him and make it look like an accident.  
  
Instead of replying, he assumed his battle stance and waited. Kiko circled him, looking thoughtful as she did so.  
  
“Show me your jabs and all of your moves,” she said.  
  
Jun did, and he worked up a good sweat by the time he finished. Kiko hadn’t given any comments until he was done.  
  
“Keiko-chan was right; you don’t guard yourself.”  
  
Jun didn’t have to, back then. That had been what his personal guard was for. “I was told to focus on my attacks, that my defense was not top priority. That changes now, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” Kiko agreed. “We will spar now, and I want you to not hit back, but block. Deflect all of my attacks to the best of your ability. If you can’t keep up, try anyway.”  
  
There was no further warning, and Jun had to duck at the sudden staff swipe that was aimed for his temple. He held the staff in both hands now, raising it to shield himself from the continuous blows. Kiko was the quickest of Sho’s guard, and her attack speed was nearly twice of what Keiko’s had been.  
  
“Keep up,” Kiko said, and Jun saw her grinning. He could feel the adrenaline too, making his reflexes quicker to respond.  
  
Jun winced when he was unable to flip his staff accordingly, causing Kiko to land a blow on his shoulder. She didn’t apologize for it, instead aimed for the same spot again, and Jun was able to raise his staff this time to block the blow.  
  
“They’ll hit you where it hurts,” she told him. “If they hurt you, they’ll keep doing so. You have to make it look like the blow didn’t make contact even if it did.”  
  
“You’re saying I have to control my facial expressions,” Jun said.  
  
She smiled, and she did a lunge that aimed for Jun’s ribs. “That’s why people underestimate me. Because I look like this and I smile all the time. They see a sweet girl from the outskirts, not what I trained so hard to be.” Her grin disappeared, a fierceness in her expression now. “If you can make them underestimate you, you are at an advantage. Because they’ll never know what’ll hit them.”  
  
“You speak like an assassin,” Jun said.  
  
“I trained under a retired assassin,” Kiko said. “You seem surprised.”  
  
Jun was more adjusted to the patterns of Kiko’s moves, and he was learning how to anticipate her attacks more accurately the longer they go on.  
  
“I just didn’t think an assassin would train someone under their wing,” Jun said. What he knew of assassins (at least the once they’d put on court for trial in Saiph), they all had done it for the money, some for the reputation. None of them had done it for leaving a legacy behind.  
  
He blinked, and Kiko looked like she was expecting what he’d say.  
  
“You’re their child,” he said. “How did you get in his service?”  
  
“The sins of the father aren’t carried over to his children,” Kiko said. “Do you Saiphans do it differently?”  
  
Jun had to duck to evade a lunge aimed at his throat. “No. But all who serve in the Saiphan military had their training from the soldiers of the palace.”  
  
“You’ve been here a while, I’m sure you know by now that our future emperor is rather unconventional.”  
  
Sho had outlaws as part of his army, his sworn enemy as his personal bodyguard. Unconventional wasn’t even half of what he was.  
  
“I noticed,” Jun said. “I won’t pry,” he added quickly. “In case you thought I would.”  
  
It wasn’t his place to judge where people had come from. He’d been from somewhere else too, and he was being treated far better than he should’ve, considering the crimes his ancestors had committed in the past.  
  
“Good,” Kiko said, and she sent Jun staggering back with a graceful spin of her staff. She walked away, and Jun saw her pick up another staff, swinging it to get used to its weight.  
  
Seeing the look on his face, she said, “I fight with both hands. One saber in each. You don’t. And before you ask how I knew, it’s because you hold that staff like it’s all you’ve got. Your grip isn’t bad, but it makes no room for another weapon. Try to block both now.”  
  
When she moved this time, she appeared to be dancing, the choreography of which seemed ingrained in her whole being. Her movements were so fluid Jun thought she could cut raindrops in half had she been swinging blades in the rain. Give her swords and they would sing.  
  
She’d make war look beautiful, Jun thought.  
  
He parried all her attacks as best as he could, no longer caring for grace. He only had one weapon, and he fought with it with all his might. She easily evaded his jabs with her swift feet, and she was able to disarm Jun with a feint. Jun thought she miscalculated, but it was a trick, and he only realized when the staff flew from his hand.  
  
“Did you think I would fight fairly?” she asked, leaning against one staff as she allowed him to pick up his discarded one.  
  
“No,” Jun said honestly. Keiko had spent hours lecturing him about forgetting honor. This was practice, soon to be applied in the worst scenarios. “I thought I saw an opening. I should’ve known better.”  
  
“Let’s hope you do before the rest of the week ends,” she said. “Again.”  
  
His muscles were protesting but Jun assumed his stance once more, his determination the only thing he was holding on to.


	5. Chapter 5

When they moved to the sabers, Kiko became more relentless with her attacks but more careful with landing her blows. She’d stop at a hair’s breadth from making contact to avoid any actual injury, but she’d give Jun this look that meant he had to try harder and do better.

What Keiko and Kiko had in common was that their favorite word in front of Jun was “Again.”

Jun dropped his weapon.

“Again.”

Jun was disarmed and sent to the ground.

“Again.”

The sun was at its peak by the time Kiko allowed a break. Jun let himself lay on the hard ground, the blades of grass tickling the exposed patches of his sweaty skin. He was still trying to catch his breath after doing his best in fending off a flurry of swift and lethal attacks.

Kiko took a long sip from her water jug before she asked, “What’s it like? Being in your enemy’s home planet and actually blending in?”

“Tough,” Jun said, gesturing to his state. She cracked a smile at that. “Every night I go to Okada and ask for salves for my aching back.” He wasn’t looking forward to tonight; he was anticipating he’d need twice as much as he’d had the night before.

“You’re old,” she teased.

“Not that old,” Jun countered. “But yes, older than you. How old were you when you became part of this?”

She tilted her head, as if thinking whether or not she had to give an answer. Then she said in reply, “He is thirty-five now, and he was twenty-four when this whole thing started. I was there since the beginning.”

Kiko had come of age with an impending war ever present in her mind. Jun wondered what that must be like; Kiko had to be fifteen or sixteen at the time Sho had been twenty-four. When Jun had been fifteen, he’d been receiving language training. He’d been learning how to spin words while she’d been training with a sword.

“You’re wondering why I fight for him,” Kiko said. “That’s what you always wonder.”

“You?” Jun echoed.

“Men, I mean. They always ask that once they see me fight. Is that what you want to know?”

“No,” Jun said honestly. “I was wondering if you’ve ever seen a meteor storm in a cloudless sky.”

She appeared surprised. “What?”

Jun simply nodded. “My planet has an abundance of that, when we didn’t have any solar flares, that is. I used to run outside and watch them. They look like hail, only that they glow since they’re on fire. It’s like the heavens decided to light itself up on a whim. It lasts for seconds, sometimes minutes. The longest I’ve seen lasted for fifteen minutes.”

“We don’t get meteor storms here,” Kiko told him. “Only thunderstorms.”

“My planet believed in this legend, that the meteor storms were caused by the forgotten gods of old. Remnants of their wrath and drops of their golden blood.”

She smiled. “Golden blood?”

“That’s why it’s a legend,” Jun said. “It’s not supposed to make sense.”

“And you believe in that?”

“When I was fifteen, yes, I still did,” Jun said. “We’ve had very different childhoods.” He caught the shift in her expression. “Mine was spent lazing around leisurely. You’ve been fighting for almost half your life, all because my planet was a constant threat to yours. You must hate me because of that.”

“I will admit that when I heard there was a Saiphan in the camp, I wanted to find him,” Kiko said. “More so when I heard that he insulted His Highness.”

“Here I am,” Jun said. “What were you planning to do to me had you found me?”

“Ask questions and punch you when I don’t like your answers. Maybe.” Kiko smiled. “But you’re not that Saiphan anymore, are you?”

Jun wanted to say that he was still sorely tempted to say something rude to Sho whenever he saw the man, but the urge wasn’t as strong as before, and he supposed that was change, no matter how small.

“Perhaps,” said Jun.

“Why did you save him that day?”

Jun gave her the same reason he’d given Ninomiya. “Would you let someone die if something could be done about it?”

“Depends on my relationship with that person,” Kiko said. “I spare whoever needs to be spared, those who are deserving of it. Or when asked to do so by someone I trust. You hated him. You still don’t like him very much, I can tell.”

“He’s more tolerable than he has been a few months ago.” Jun had been spending his nights in Sho’s dome, and once Sho had managed to get over his apprehension for Jun, things had become civil between them. He’d read a book from Sho’s small collection before heading off to bed, and Sho wouldn’t remark on it and simply settle for giving Jun a calculated look.

It was, Jun thought, better than Sho being completely on guard around him. The man had been so stiff, so practiced before. Lately, Jun had been seeing him slouch in his seat in his study or stifle a yawn with the back of his hand.

Jun was yet to see him sleep. If Sho was doing it, he was also making sure that he’d retire later than Jun and wake ahead of Jun.

“Tolerable,” Kiko repeated, and she laughed. “I’ve seen him annoy more than half of his mother’s court with a single comment; he has a talent for such things. I admire it. I’m not good with words.”

“Do you think he’ll make a great emperor?” Jun asked.

“I think he has what it takes to be an emperor worth remembering,” Kiko said. “As for great, I don’t know yet. I think he needs a formidable ally for that to happen. And the good thing is, I think he knows that as well.”

“Knows? Has he established an alliance with someone he can trust?” Jun asked. He never heard of this, and that was nothing new. But Kiko sounded pretty certain, and he’d never understand how the people here could tell what Sho was thinking. None of it made sense to him.

She looked amused, and Jun caught her line of sight landing on his badge. “I believe he has.” She stood and offered Jun her hand. “Another bout.”

Jun allowed her to help him up. “Does that mean you trust me?”

“I trust his judgment,” Kiko said. “After all, he overlooked my father’s crimes to give me a chance.”

But he can’t do that once he learns of who I truly am, Jun thought. The reality of it was suddenly too much to think about.

He didn’t say anything more, and neither did Kiko.

\--

Kiko had the tip of her saber pointed at Jun’s throat when she asked, “Why do you hold your weapon like that?”

“Like what?” Jun managed to choke out, and she stepped back to give him space to catch his breath. They’d been at it for hours, and unlike him, Kiko showed no signs of fatigue. If anything, the longer they went on, the stronger her hits became.

“Like you’re accustomed to a duel,” Kiko said. “Did Saiph have a lot of tournaments?”

“When the occasion called for it,” Jun said. He grew up watching their bravest and most valiant fighting in games that lasted for weeks. An exceptionally skilled warrior could ask for the honor of dueling with royalty and be hailed a champion if he was victorious.

Jun had been challenged when he’d been named Crown Prince, and those who’d managed to defeat him in the ring had become part of his personal guard.

When he remembered what had become of them, there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“There are no tournaments here,” Kiko said. “Nothing that would promote sportsmanship, I mean. If we fought against our own, it was to earn a place in the service.”

“Does he fight?” Jun asked.

Kiko’s head tilted to the side, her eyes studying him. “His Highness? I never saw him fight.”

Jun thought that Sho’s built didn’t have the telltale signs of an experienced fighter. What he could remember from the events in Sheratan were that Sho had fought out of desperation.

“Who knows?” Kiko said with a shrug.

“You would know,” Jun said. “You’ve been with him for so long.”

“Ah, but his greatest weapon is his mind,” Kiko said. There was no room for disagreement there. “With a few words, he can undo a debate lasting for hours. He can have a man feel punished just by speaking to him.”

“I’m aware,” Jun said. He’d engaged in a couple of verbal spats with Sho. He still recalled the humiliation. “He doesn’t make himself very likeable, does he?”

Kiko laughed, her head tossed back. “Not for you, he doesn’t. It depends on to whom he’s speaking with.”

Jun’s eyes narrowed at that comment, at the hidden implication behind her words. Everyone who was in Sho’s service had underlying meanings when they spoke. His stay here only made him more attuned to them.

“You think he can play nice when necessary,” Jun said. It was unthinkable. Sho and nice were two things that didn’t blend very well.

“I’ve seen him do it. He’s quite adept at it,” Kiko said. “I suppose you’ll find out when the time comes. But consider this as your warning. Seeing it for the first time certainly leaves an impression.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jun said, swinging his saber and assuming his stance. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kiko lunged, and Jun met her strikes with the same amount of force, trying not to pay any mind to the ache his muscles were beginning to feel.

\--

By the end of the week, he had to visit Okada for salves and patches. Okada kept shaking his head as he applied the medicated patches on parts of Jun’s back, but when Jun waited for him to say a word, he didn’t. He simply handed a jar of salve to Jun and shooed him away by waving his hands.

This time, when Jun entered Sho’s dome, Sho wasn’t behind his desk. The desk still had the clutter it had yesterday night, but no pads were powered on and all holograms were switched off.

Jun’s hand immediately flew to his holster, and he pulled out his phaser. Finding the dome silent was certainly strange, and he crept inside as quietly as he could and began searching the different rooms, his phaser set to stun and ready.

He lowered his weapon when he found Sho in bed, asleep for what seemed to be a few hours. He slept on top of the blankets, like he’d simply given in for a short nap that got prolonged because he had underestimated his exhaustion. Like this, he looked peaceful, nothing like the annoying emperor-to-be who always needed to have the last word.

There was a soft sigh escaping from Sho’s slightly parted lips, and for a moment, he appeared harmless.

Jun dismissed the thought. Sho would never be harmless.

He tucked his phaser back in its holster and moved as quietly as he could, setting his sleeping bag and preparing for the night.

Then he heard a shuffle, and he looked up to find Sho’s eyes on him.

“You don’t sleep, huh,” Jun said with a dash of amusement. He couldn’t help it.

Sho sat up, running a hand through his slightly flattened hair. He blinked blearily, attempting to focus. If Jun could, he’d record a holo of this moment. He’d never see something like this again.

“Your scent woke me up,” Sho said. “How many patches did you ask Okada-kun to put on your body?”

Jun decided right then that he liked Sho more when the man was sleeping. “Some.”

“Can you even stand? Your job is to be my bodyguard tomorrow. If you’re going to be a walking bruise on our way to Denebia, I’d rather not take you with me.”

“Do you want a demonstration?” Jun didn’t suffer through all the aches just to have his abilities and achievements belittled. He’d done it. He’d gotten Keiko and Kiko’s approval, and Keiko had begrudgingly given her yes when Jun had reported to her earlier today, asking if she’d allow him to leave with the future emperor.

Sho was apparently awake enough to give him an eyebrow quirk. “No need. You seem confident enough, and Keiko-chan told me she gave you her permission.” Sho stood and straightened his clothes. “Lights at fifty percent.”

Jun had to blink at the sudden brightness. When he could look at Sho once more, he had his tongue against his cheek at the sight of Sho’s puffy face. The man wasn’t the most attractive upon waking up, and Jun was enjoying the opportunity to look at him in such a state.

“I already had the ship we’re going to use restocked and refueled. The navigation system was reinstalled for optimum performance. Ninomiya personally saw to the matters, supervised by Kazama.” Sho’s eyes narrowed at him. “Something funny?”

“Nothing at all,” Jun denied. “Are we using the same ship as before?”

“And be fired upon the moment we enter their border?” Sho sneered. “No. We’re using one of mine. Can you fly a Hamali ship?”

“Your people built your ships following the diagnostics of ours; of course I can,” Jun said.

“You’re as charming as ever,” Sho said. “We leave at dawn. Get some sleep.”

“And you?” Jun asked, watching as Sho moved to leave.

“There are transmissions I must listen and reply to,” Sho told him.

“You can reply to those while we’re on our way to Denebia. It’s a three-day trip.” Jun gave him a long look and said, “You should sleep. You look like you need it more than I do.”

“I can sleep on the trip,” Sho said, stubborn as ever.

Jun let out a breath before he opened his mouth once more. “You can’t expect me to fly that ship by myself. What, I’ll just put it on autopilot as I rest like a normal human being while you do the same? Excellent plan. As if there’s nothing that can harm us in space.”

Sho faced him, head inclined to the side as he allowed a small smile creep up to his face. The longer the silence stretched, the more unsettled Jun felt. Whatever Sho was about to say would surely annoy him.

“I find myself regretting things lately,” Sho said.

“Because you gave me this badge?”

“No,” Sho said pleasantly. Jun didn’t let it fool him. “I regret that I removed the gag. You don’t need your mouth to fight.”

Jun could still recall how unpleasant he’d found the feeling of having the gag on. “I’m not letting you put that on me again.”

“I know. Rather unfortunate, really. You looked better with it on. Back then, your eyes told me everything I had to know.”

Jun squared his jaw before he asked, “And what did you gather?” His heart was hammering. What if? he thought.

“That if it were possible, you’d jump at the opportunity of having our roles reversed. Tell me I’m wrong,” Sho said.

He wasn’t. Jun had allowed himself to imagine such things many times. What if Sho had been exiled to Saiph instead? It would be different. He’d be treated like a prisoner, perhaps humiliated often. His father had found Sho to be distasteful.

But they would still have met, would have been introduced properly to one another with their titles. Sho would never be Jun’s personal bodyguard, but he’d still be a person of interest. A royal hostage.

“Were you high-ranking in your military?” Sho asked. “I need an explanation for your propensity for insubordination and the combat skills that you possess. Not everyone gets Keiko’s approval.”

Jun supposed that was the closest thing to a compliment he’d get about his recent accomplishments. “I trained under the best.”

“But your best is obviously not enough to beat Keiko in single combat,” Sho said. “Were you disheartened by that?”

Jun shrugged. “Why would I be? She’s incredibly skilled. If anything, I’m honored to have fought with her and have lasted in that ring for as long as I have. You’re lucky to have her around; she’ll kill hundreds before they can even lay eyes on you.”

“And hypothetically speaking, how many can you kill if she can slay a hundred?”

Jun thought about it. “Fifty. Probably.”

“Then let’s hope the Denebian queen doesn’t have a hundred women for her royal guard, or else I’ll be heading straight to my death,” Sho said with a wry smile.

It took Jun a couple of seconds, but after a few seconds of observing Sho, he concluded, “You’re nervous.”

Sho turned his head sharply, but Jun didn’t allow himself to be intimidated by his glare. It was a defense mechanism.

“You are,” Jun said. “You’re starting to think this is a bad idea, given the nature of Denebians.”

“Their men are kept from positions of power, merely used as soldiers,” Sho said. Jun knew that; he’d flown here in a ship that had two Denebian men who were defectors. “It’s a wise decision, considering how we men are.”

“But you don’t know how the queen will accept you since you’re a man of an almost similar status as her,” Jun concluded. Sho didn’t utter a word of agreement, but he didn’t have to. “You don’t even know what made her agree to granting you audience, and a part of you thinks it’s a trap.”

This was a gamble, and the odds weren’t looking good so far. He could see how Sho had his features schooled to impassiveness.

Jun allowed the silence to linger before he spoke softly, meaning every word. “If it comes to that, it comes to that.” He saw Sho lift his head and look at him, and he merely nodded. “I’m not letting you go there alone.”

Sho let out a small laugh, but he didn’t seem amused. “You are not letting me. That’s interesting. You can’t fight a hundred soldiers. You said so yourself.”

“No, I cannot,” Jun agreed. “But at the very least, I can shoot some of them to open up a path for you, should it come to that. I meant what I said back then.”

Sho exhaled, the steep incline of his shoulders slumping further. “You’ve seen me order the men in my service, men who are sworn to me. But you are not one of them so I won’t order you. If you’d rather stay with the ship when we get there—”

“I’m coming with you,” Jun said, talking over him. “I’m not letting you do everything on your own.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re difficult to get rid of?” Sho asked, but it came out light, nothing like a barb.

Rina had, more than once. Back when Jun had stayed close to her because he’d been too shy to make new friends on his own. “Adding that to your list of regrets? That you allowed me to help you?”

“No,” Sho said. “That part, I don’t regret one bit. Lights at five percent.”

The room dimmed, and Jun could only stare as Sho climbed onto his bed and settled under the covers. He never thought he’d have the ability to make Sho do anything.

“You’re sleeping,” Jun said, still in disbelief.

“Such a groundbreaking observation, Matsumoto. Would you rather have us chat till morning?” Sho asked.

“No,” Jun said honestly. “If you offer, I will decline.”

“Then I’m not offering. If you have plans to read before bed, you may use my study,” Sho said, giving Jun his back.

Jun was exhausted enough. “No, I’m sleeping.” He rearranged his sleeping bag where he’d have an unobstructed view of Sho’s bed in case of an emergency. “Good night.”

It took a moment, but he heard a muffled “Good night,” that made him smile as he closed his eyes.

\--

Jun prepared the ship for take off as Sho gave last-minute orders to Ohno, Aiba, and Keiko—the only ones who were privy to the trip. To everyone else, Sho was going to personally oversee the delay in the delivery of fuel cells, accompanied by his bodyguard, the Saiphan.

When he heard the hatch being sealed, he started flipping switches. Sho’s ship was designed to have a passenger seat in the cockpit, and Jun didn’t bother to ask for Sho’s permission and took the pilot’s chair for himself. If Sho would be irritated by his audacity, it wouldn’t be the first time.

He heard footsteps coming up from behind him and didn’t look, instead inputting calculations in the navigation console. He wasn’t as gifted as Ninomiya, but Jun managed to lessen the travel time from three days to two days and eighteen hours. It was progress, considering the predicted solar flares he had to avoid on the way there.

“Her Majesty has given me permission to land my ship in the royal spacedock,” Sho said. “I’ve been told it’s an honor.”

“We’re not being hailed and escorted?” Jun asked. Diplomatic missions had protocols, he recalled.

Sho was leaning against the console now, arms crossed over his chest. He’d dressed down a bit, but his clothes still signified that he was royalty. The material was vastly different from the ones Jun was wearing.

“I’d rather not have her escort us,” Sho said. “I don’t believe that we’ll be welcomed as guests.”

Which was wise on Sho’s part, Jun would admit. “All right. As soon as they let us in, I’ll readjust the route so we’ll be in the spacedock.” He tilted his chin towards the seat beside his. “Buckle up.”

Sho did, not speaking even after they went past the atmosphere. Beyond the glass windows, Hamal was a ball of gray and white interspersed with the occasional dark green. Briefly, Jun remembered that its seas weren’t blue like Saiph’s.

The jump to hyperspace gave Jun a thrill he hadn’t felt in a while. Unlike the last time he’d been on a ship, he wasn’t visiting the capital. He was leaving this planet. Months ago, he’d never thought it possible. Now he was leaving Hamal behind with Hamal’s future emperor by his side.

To the uninformed, it would appear that Jun was abducting the heir. Not too different from his great-great grandfather.

“We could’ve simply made the jump straight to Denebia,” Jun said as soon as the ship was on autopilot.

“Yes, but I’d rather we arrive on the appointed time and not too early,” Sho said.

Jun studied Sho’s face and after a few beats, said, “Are we meeting someone?”

“You’re getting good at that,” Sho said, a scowl forming on his face.

Jun frowned. “At what?”

“At saying the right things. It’s very irritating,” Sho said. Then he sighed. “Yes, we are. Keiko’s husband. He’s been watching Denebia for the past two months, and I want to have his full report before we enter the territory.”

“Transmissions exist,” Jun said.

“And risk having it detected by the Denebian government despite the message being spoken in my tongue? Are all things so simple to you?”

“Coded transmissions, I mean,” Jun said, trying to summon all the patience he had left. “Kitagawa-san told me her husband was a former spy; surely he would know of such things. Or an encrypted transmission perhaps.”

“There’s no time for any of that,” Sho said. “I’ve worked so hard to get this far, to be granted an audience. Did you think I’ll take the risk when a single transmission can end everything? That’s not a gamble I’m willing to make.”

Jun stared at the flicker of emotion on Sho’s face, at the glimpse of his true feelings behind the snarky comments and the sarcastic barbs.

“I didn’t know the extent of your hard work,” Jun said. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Sho stared at him. Then: “You’re fighting in a war you know nothing about.”

“Unless you tell me,” Jun said.

“In time,” Sho said, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing. “The less you know, the better.”

“Because you still see me as your enemy?” Jun asked, watching him walk away.

“Because my mind is my own,” Sho told him. “For now, you know enough, and that’s how I want it. When we get there, refrain from asking too many questions. If you have concerns, I’ll hear them in private. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jun said through his teeth.

“Good. I had the replicator reprogrammed to at least fashion us a decent meal. Feel free to use it if you must,” Sho said, and Jun finally heard him depart.

Alone, Jun leaned back against his seat. He thought of his great-great grandfather, wondering what he’d seen in the then-future Hamali empress that he’d convinced her to run away with him. If all Hamali royalty were like Sho and Jun was given no other choice, Jun would rather remain a bachelor for life than marry one into his family.

He synced his communicator to the main frame and left the cockpit to familiarize himself with the ship.

\--

Sho’s ship, Otonoha, only had one room with a bed, so Jun claimed the pilot’s chair for himself. It had been a full day with Sho making use of the mess hall as his workspace, replying to transmissions and other missives without acknowledging Jun’s presence unless he saw fit to ask about a status update.

Jun let him be. When Sho wasn’t looking to start a fight, he was easier to deal with. Jun had this impression that since the attempted assassination, Sho had been on his guard. Not that Jun would be able to tell exactly—he’d never been this close to Sho before.

He resolved to remain on the bridge of the ship. He looked out and saw nothing but stars. They’d made the jump safely and landed halfway to Denebia, and the ship was now cloaked and flying steadily to where they’d make contact with Keiko’s husband. Jun hadn’t asked for the details regarding the rendezvous. He knew he’d just be rebuffed.

With nothing to entertain himself with, he resolved to watch the stars. He hadn’t seen them for months, which, had he still been a prince, would have been unthinkable. Crown Prince Jun was known for his leisure trips across the galaxy. He’d seen every corner of the Saiphan territory, had visited once or twice the pleasure districts in different colonies under their protection. He’d been his father’s envoy at times, and he’d taken the opportunity to unwind when he could.

He hadn’t minded the stars back then. They’d been an ordinary sight to him.

But now, seeing them left him with something akin to longing. He missed having adventures of his own, having that kind of freedom to exercise. His life wasn’t his own now; it was tied to whatever was about to happen. It was tied with Sho’s, whether he liked it or not.

A part of Jun hoped that if he did manage to survive whatever was coming, Sho would reward his service with what he wanted most. If Sho would set him free, he’d find a way to return to Saiph, stop the war from happening now that he’d had a glimpse of how it was on the losing side. Hamal wouldn’t survive a war against his planet. Though Jun had been mostly hated by the Hamali he’d encountered (future emperor included), they didn’t deserve to suffer.

“Your planet is fifty-seven light years away from mine,” Sho said from the doorway.

“A six-hour hyperspace jump in the finest, fastest Saiphan ship,” Jun said. He’d heard Sho arrive; his boots made this distinct noise against the flooring because of the expensive material they were made from. “What about it?”

“When the war between Saiph and Hamal happens—”

“It won’t,” Jun said. Not if he could help it, he thought.

Sho didn’t appear to hear him. He stood by the console now, eyes focused on the stars in front of them. “—and my planet is destroyed, it’ll take fifty-seven years for the star that stood for Hamal that’s seen in your planet to disappear. Long enough for the generations to have survived the war to pass away. And just like that, we will be forgotten.”

“No,” Jun said. “I won’t let that happen.”

“When will you realize that you’re not exactly in a position to influence the tide of things?” Sho asked, turning to him. “It amazes me every time: seeing you talk as if you can inspire change. You obviously possess the talent for it. Had I not known better, I would have believed you.”

“You’re right, I can’t do anything on my own,” Jun said. For a moment, Sho appeared triumphant. “But that’s why I’m here, helping out wherever I can. You might be loathe to admit it, but you already enlisted my help the moment you gave me this badge.”

“I enlisted your cooperation, not your help,” Sho said.

“But here I am anyway,” Jun said. “Deal with it.”

“Yes, it appears I have no choice,” Sho said. He leaned against the console and studied Jun, and Jun permitted the scrutiny despite being mildly unsettled by it. “How old are you?”

“What?” Of all things, Jun hadn’t been expecting that question.

“Your age,” Sho said. He sounded uncharacteristically patient for once.

“Thirty-four,” Jun answered. “What about it?”

“So you’ve seen the late Crown Prince of Saiph grow,” Sho said. Jun took care to steady his breathing; this was a dangerous conversation. “He would have been the same age as you if he wasn’t murdered. In a few months, he would have been king.”

“Your mother has refused most of the emissaries from the Saiphan king,” Jun said. “Your mother and the Denebian queen took turns in doing that.”

“I’ve met the Saiphan king once. It was the only time my mother granted him audience,” Sho said. Jun set his jaw; he would have to will himself not to react if Sho said something he didn’t like. His father was dead and they were talking about a memory, but it was still a dear memory for Jun. “He was quick to anger. Temperamental, I suppose.”

“He didn’t like you,” Jun found himself saying. He caught Sho smiling at that. “He—his impressions on the Hamali are known planetwide.”

“I see,” Sho said. “I wasn’t seeking out his favor. I wonder if his son would have been different with negotiations. Many say the late prince would have been the kind of king that his father was.”

Jun allowed himself to imagine an alternate scenario where he’d be visiting the Hamali court to try to broker a peace treaty to end centuries of animosity. Would he find Sho as distasteful as his father had? Had they met as a king and an emperor—as equals—would they still try to prevent a war from happening?

Would Crown Prince Jun still save Emperor Apparent Sho’s life if he could?

“I wouldn’t know,” Jun said quietly. It was pointless to dwell on things that’d never happen. He’d never be king. “But I think...I want to believe that the late prince wouldn’t have been his father’s kind of king.”

He saw a subtle shift in Sho’s expression and added, “He wouldn’t take your lands or enslave your people. He would never do such a thing.”

“And his sister would?” Sho asked after a moment.

Jun wanted to believe otherwise, but he wouldn’t be here now if that were true. “Perhaps,” he said anyway. The Rina he thought he knew wouldn’t. The Rina now was an entirely different matter. “You believe she will, anyway. You told me she’s the kind of monarch the late Saiphan king was.”

“Would anything still her hand?” Sho asked.

“Territory,” Jun said. “And ore. Whatever you have to give.”

“Then there’s nothing that will,” Sho concluded, nodding to himself.

“You knew all of this,” Jun said. “This is why we’re going to Denebia in the first place. You knew that if Saiph offers parley, it’ll be tantamount to a surrender on your part. They won’t destroy you outright, but they will invade regardless.”

“As you witnessed yourself, I am short on hands,” Sho said. “Have a care not to speak of any of this in front of Her Majesty.”

“I think she will be able to deduce it on her own,” Jun said. “Aside from asking for an army to aid you in the wars to come, will she really not think of anything else?”

“There’s another possibility,” Sho said.

He looked at Jun and waited, and when it clicked, Jun shook his head. “No.”

“No as in you don’t think it’s possible with me?”

“No as in it won’t work; she will know that you have no intentions of offering a marriage prospect to cement a permanent alliance,” Jun said. “Despite the possibility of it, you would never.”

Sho was perhaps the biggest snob he’d met in the universe. To marry someone like him would be torture everyday.

“What stories did you hear from my men?” Sho asked with a slight frown. “Tell me at once.”

“That you turned down all your suitors including all offers of marriage,” Jun said. “You won’t start accepting one now; you’re a fool if you think Her Majesty would believe that.”

“That’s everything you’ve heard about me?” Sho had an eyebrow quirked now. “That’s not all of it. I know my men. I know what they’ll likely say. Tell me everything.”

Jun would rather not. But an order was an order, and Sho was pointedly eyeing the badge pinned on Jun’s chest. “That you never had any known romantic pursuits or interests. This reputation has undoubtedly reached Her Majesty; it’s protocol that royalty had a background check on all the people requesting an audience, and you’re not an exception to that. She won’t buy it, if you’re planning to fool her with that offer.”

“And who said I’d be offering myself?” Sho smiled. “Trust you to be so straightforward with your thinking. You’re right; I have a reputation. Which is why I’m not offering myself.”

“Your siblings aren’t of age yet, at least not according to your planet’s traditions,” Jun said. Thirty was the coming of age in Hamal, ten years later than Saiph’s. The Hamali believed that the twenties was too young to govern a planet properly. “You can’t offer them up.”

“Cousins exist,” Sho said. “It’s not a very strong offer, I know. But it should be enough to give me a few men, if I can make Her Majesty agree to it.”

“And if she asks for you instead?” Jun asked. “If she says she’ll make you emperor if you promise to marry into her family, what will you do?”

“Decline,” Sho said immediately.

“You’re not in the position to do that; you need her army,” Jun pointed out.

“I will be agreeable to providing an heir to continue the bloodline, though,” Sho said. “That is what Denebia is after, anyway. Royal blood to perpetuate their bloodline. They need strong, capable women as heirs possessing the rightful claim. I can provide that should it be necessary.”

Jun let out a breath. Just having this conversation alone was exhausting. “So that’s your offer in exchange for Denebia’s aid?”

“Do you think it’s not enough?”

Jun blinked; was Sho asking for his opinion? Truly? “What?”

“Do not ask me to repeat that,” Sho said, his voice having an edge to it.

“It’s not enough,” Jun said. “She might ask for something more. You have to be prepared to give it, whatever it is. You need her. You know this. Why do you even ask?”

“Reassurance,” Sho said quietly, softly that Jun almost didn’t hear it. “That’s strange, isn’t it? I never thought I’d need you for anything.”

Jun never imagined there’d come a time that he’d be his enemy’s support, that Sho would ask for his opinion despite Sho’s utter dislike for him. But Jun supposed there were sacrifices kings-to-be had to make.

Saying anything now, though, would ruin the moment. He kept silent and stared out into the stars. Some of them might be long dead, millions of light years away. And he’d never know which was which.

“When I’m emperor, I’ll look back on this day,” Sho said when the silence had already lingered. He gave Jun his profile and looked out, eyes appearing distant. “And I’ll remember it as the first time you’ve proven it to me.”

“Proven what?” Jun asked.

The stars were reflected in Sho’s eyes.

“That I do have someone like you,” Sho said.

\--

Keiko’s husband was a man named Daigo. The rendezvous was at an uninhabited asteroid, and Otonoha has been in orbit along with the reconnaissance ship as Daigo beamed inside theirs. He stood taller than Jun but possessed a slightly smaller built. He was pale and had long hair that nearly touched his shoulders, and he bowed in reverence at Sho’s presence. When he straightened up at Sho’s command, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Jun.

“Keiko did warn me that you got the most unexpected person as your personal bodyguard,” Daigo said. “But she never told me anything about a Saiphan.”

“Yes, I suppose she thought that’d be amusing,” Sho said. “Report.”

Daigo gave Jun a long look. “With all due respect, Highness—”

“Do you want him to leave?” Sho asked. “I’m afraid he can’t. You had no problems delivering important news in front of Nagase-kun.”

“That was Nagase-san,” Daigo said. Sho regarded him, and he gave Jun another pointed look.

Making people uncomfortable was Sho’s specialty, but Jun wanted no part in it. “I could—”

“He is not leaving,” Sho said coolly to Daigo.

Daigo nodded after a moment. “Very well.” He kept his eyes on Sho as he said, “The Denebian queen has constantly turned down all requests for an audience from the Saiphan queen. I’ve seen some Saiphan ships on patrol, but they never ventured close enough to the planet to be deemed hostile. They kept their distance, never crossing the boundaries of the territory.”

“Do you believe that they did?” Sho asked.

“They can’t cross the border. Denebia has a planetwide defense system; they can’t pass through the shields without the gates opening for them. To date, no Saiphan has stepped foot in Denebia,” Daigo said.

“Are they out there?” Sho asked. “The moment my ship is received, do you think they’ll see it happen?”

“It’s very likely,” Daigo said. “But they will not shoot. If they shoot at your ship, Denebia will treat it as an act of war since you’ll be in their territory. You have that guarantee, at least, that Otonoha will be able to land safely.”

“They can’t know you’re here,” Jun said. He meant his people.

Daigo gave him a look of confusion, but Jun had his eyes on Sho.

Sho looked deep in thought, chin resting on his knuckles.

“If they know you’re here, they’ll know what you’re up to,” Jun said. “If they don’t shoot us upon our arrival, they might at our departure.”

Sho lifted his gaze, and Jun saw him exchange a meaningful look with Daigo.

“If that is your will, Highness,” Daigo said without hesitation.

“No,” Jun said. He turned to Sho, who didn’t look at him. “You can’t send him as a decoy.” He knew Rina’s men. They’d shoot him once they discover he wasn’t the Emperor Apparent.

“This doesn’t concern you, Saiphan,” Daigo said. “It’s your people we’re fighting against. If my future emperor asks this of me, who am I to deny my service? I made my pledge.”

Jun was about to open his mouth, but he heard Sho say, “Daigo-kun. If you’ll excuse me and my bodyguard for a moment. I’ll inform you of my decision after this. In the meantime, please help yourself with whatever my replicator can fashion for you.”

Daigo looked reluctant, but left them after a curt bow and a distrustful look cast in Jun’s way, his footsteps echoing against the flooring. Soon, they heard the familiar whir of a replicator, and Sho faced him.

“I said I’d hear your concerns in private,” Sho said.

“You can’t send him to his death,” Jun said, choosing to address the more concerning matter. “I’m not letting you.”

Sho’s head inclined to the side. “You’re not letting me. That’s the second time you said that.”

Jun paid no attention to the tone of Sho’s voice. “You’ve been trying to prevent a war from happening because you care for your people and you don’t want to see them suffer. Daigo-san is one of your people. If you become emperor someday, isn’t it part of your oath to be the protector of the Hamali?”

“He is sworn to me. He said it himself: he made his pledge,” Sho said.

“So you’ll sacrifice him for the greater good?” Jun was getting angry now. Daigo’s behavior towards Jun was caused by his loyalty to Sho. Loyalty like that shouldn’t be rewarded with a suicide mission.

“There are sacrifices I must make in order to achieve my goals,” Sho said.

“These are lives!” Jun cried. “You might think you’re just gambling with whatever you’ve got, but for anyone who follows you, they gamble with their lives! Would you really want them killed just so you can save your planet?! Will you be that kind of an emperor, someone who only cares for the welfare of the majority? These aren’t your pawns; they’re your people.”

Sho shut his eyes, and Jun felt his breathing go heavier. He hadn’t been angry in so long—he could almost feel his blood pumping.

“Can you live with yourself if you do such a thing right now? If you can, look me in the eye and say it,” Jun said.

“Enough,” Sho said softly, eyes fluttering open.

“No, this is not settled. You’re not sending him out there! What will Keiko-san think of you once she finds out?!”

“Enough, I said.” Sho met his eyes. “Why do you always remind me of my morality? I’m trying to cement my future and my planet’s, and you tell me that I can’t.”

“Not like this,” Jun said. “There are other ways to rule. But don’t rule using fear. It’s a precarious foundation. Do you want your people to be terrified of you once you ascend the throne? Because they know you won’t hesitate to cut off a limb if you have to?”

Sho sighed. “Why do you always try to prevent me from doing the wrong thing?” Sho asked, but it seemed that he was asking himself. “You’re very irritating.”

“Irritating because I’m making sense?” Jun asked. “One of us has to.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose before facing him once more. “Fine. What would you do if you were in my position?”

“My people know how your ship looks like,” Jun said. “If I were you, I’d trade my ship with Daigo-san’s. Send him back to Hamal, to the outskirts. He’s done here, anyway. He can make the jump to hyperspace from here. We take his ship and go to Denebia as planned.”

“And if Her Majesty looks for my ship? I said I’d arrive in Otonoha.”

“Tell her you didn’t take the risk since Saiphans were closely watching her planet. Send her a transmission after this. Explain everything, inform her beforehand. If she sees fit to still bestow punishment for the change in the arrangement, so be it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Sho said. “We don’t know what she might ask for in case we end up inconveniencing her.”

“But whatever it is, it’s not as bad as sending one of your best men as a decoy so you can enter and exit a planet unharmed.” Jun gave Sho this determined look. “We’ll manage somehow. Send Daigo-san home.”

Sho took a deep breath, and out of the corner of his mouth, said, “Call him back.”

Jun did. He remained by the doors as Daigo entered once more, and from the looks on his face, he seemed to have resigned himself to the worst.

“Daigo-kun,” Sho said.

“Your Highness.”

“You’re going home,” Sho said, and Jun was unable to squash the happiness he felt momentarily. Sho explained the plan to Daigo, who still stared at Sho like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Do not get a scratch on my ship,” Sho said, and Jun caught a flicker of a smile on his face. “Are we clear on this?”

“Yes, Highness,” Daigo said in reply, still looking stunned. “I—”

“You’ve been away for nearly half a year,” Sho said. “Keiko-chan undoubtedly misses you.”

“Yes, it’s been a while. I—thank you.” Daigo lowered his head in a formal bow, so low that he looked bent in half. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Thank him,” Sho said, and he pointed to Jun. Jun wasn’t expecting to be acknowledged, and now he shared Daigo’s surprise. “He asked me to send you home.”

Daigo gave a little bow in gratitude, his eyes no longer meeting Jun’s. “Forgive me for my behavior earlier.”

“There was no offense,” Jun said.

When Daigo turned to Sho, he bowed once more. “With your permission, I will begin preparations.”

Sho nodded. “You’re dismissed. I’ll see you in the hatch once everything’s ready.”

Daigo left, but not before giving Jun another look of gratitude that Jun acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. As a prince, he’d gotten accustomed to being thanked for the smallest gestures. His whole life, he’d never felt truly thanked for something until now.

He was alone with Sho once more, and he said, “He was surprised.”

“I’m not usually this kind,” Sho admitted. “I’m fair, but only kind on certain occasions.”

“Like?”

“Like when my enemy starts speaking like my conscience has come to life and seeks to bother me unless I listen to him.”

Sho could’ve simply said Jun made him do something that was unlike him, but nothing was easy with Sho.

“You did the right thing,” Jun told him.

“Endangering myself for my people? Yes, I suppose I did,” Sho said.

“Not that. You chose to spare a life when given the chance. It was the right thing to do.”

Sho stared at him, and when Sho continued to not say anything, Jun grew wary.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

“Nothing,” Sho said, turning away. “Go help Daigo-kun with the preparations. The sooner we leave this rock, the better.”


	6. Chapter 6

Daigo’s reconnaissance ship was considerably smaller and of an older model, but she was nothing Jun couldn’t handle. They parted ways with little fanfare, and Sho made Jun wait for Otonoha to jump to hyperspace before they did the same.  
  
In minutes, they’d be by Denebia’s gates. Sho had already sent his transmission to Her Majesty, and if he’d received a reply, Jun wasn’t informed of it.  
  
“I have some rules before we get there, and I need you to follow all of them,” Sho said. They were in the cockpit with Jun manning the controls and the joystick. Sho stood by his side, back resting against the console.  
  
Sho would have a field day seeing him so cooperative. “All right,” Jun said.  
  
“Do not speak unless you’re spoken to,” Sho said. “In the event that they proposition you for anything, decline. We don’t want to be in their debt for long. If you can answer a question with five words or fewer, do so. Do not look at Her Majesty in the eye.”  
  
Jun nodded to all of them. “Anything else?”  
  
“Yes. Stay close to my side,” Sho said.  
  
“As your bodyguard, I have to,” Jun said. “And if Her Majesty dismisses me to speak with you in private?”  
  
“Linger by the door,” Sho said. “If I will be murdered, I’ll make sure to make some noise to call your attention.”  
  
Jun gave a curt nod, and he reached from the inside of his boot to pull out a dagger that Keiko had him hide in his clothes. Aside from the phasers, she’d given him this. He held it by the blade, presenting the handle to Sho.  
  
“Just in case,” Jun said.  
  
“Are you anticipating that you might be tardy in your rescue attempt should the occasion call for it?”  
  
“Take it,” he said. “So I can have some peace of mind that you at least have something to defend yourself with if I’m not there.”  
  
Sho took the dagger from him and tucked it inside his boot. “You do realize they might search me for weapons?”  
  
“That’s what your mind is for,” Jun told him. He grabbed the joystick and watched the timer do a countdown till their arrival. “You told me you’re an accomplished orator. Distract them until I can rescue you. Get in the back and buckle up.”  
  
Sho obeyed, and Jun heard the click of the seatbelt fastening just in time for the ship to drop out of hyperspace. What welcomed him was a planet of orange, surrounded by a planet-wide shield that gave it a distinct aura. Jun could catch a sheen every now and then as the shield moved, and he was impressed that a desert planet could be so advanced.  
  
Denebia was one of the planets he’d never been to. All he knew of it was that it had an abundance of sand, its dunes reaching hundreds of feet tall after a sandstorm.  
  
The ship’s communicator pinged with a hailing message, and Jun flipped the switch to respond. The man on the other line spoke in Denebian, and Jun answered his questions to the best of his ability, matching his accent with the native one to appear more confident.  
  
“You do have some uses,” Sho said as soon as they were granted entry. Jun had declared that the Emperor Apparent of Hamal was onboard the reconnaissance ship, and Sho had allowed his voice to be used for identification.  
  
Jun resolved not to comment on that, instead flying the ship steadily as they get dragged in by the planet’s gravity. As soon as they crossed the gates, Jun put the ship on autopilot based on the coordinates they’d been provided with.  
  
Jun shrugged on the jacket to complete his outfit; he wore the clothes that were originally intended for Nagase. He got ready, rechecking his phasers and other weapons, resyncing his communicator just to be sure.  
  
“We’re being hailed,” Jun said, dropping out of autopilot. He could see the entrance of the spaceport, a massive dome that stood out in the midst of sand dunes. Jun allowed himself a quick sweep of their surroundings, and he saw that the spaceport was directly connected to what appeared to be the royal palace. It had the appearance of an old towering temple that stood atop a mountain of rock that had weathered through the ages.  
  
“Accept it,” Sho said, and he stepped into view as Jun enabled full screen.  
  
Sho bowed respectfully as soon as a woman’s face appeared onscreen. Jun did the same, and he lifted his head once he saw that Sho had done so.  
  
“Your Majesty,” Sho greeted respectfully.  
  
“Emperor Apparent,” she greeted in turn. She looked older than both of them, but she had the kind of beauty that grabbed attention, a certain glint in her eyes present. “You didn’t mention about bringing a companion.”  
  
She was staring at Jun, and Jun lowered his gaze in reverence.  
  
“This is my bodyguard, Matsumoto,” Sho said. “Surely you’d allow his presence?”  
  
“I’ve heard rumors that you’ve taken the most unlikely of companions,” she said, paying no mind to Sho’s introduction. “I’ve never allowed any Saiphan in my planet.”  
  
“He’s a member of my household,” Sho said. “I answer for him.”  
  
“He will be the first,” she said after a brief moment of consideration. “You will be escorted to my court. Until then.”  
  
“Until then,” Sho said. “You have my gratitude.”  
  
The transmission ended, and Sho said, “Queen Ryoko has a penchant for intimidating anyone on first meet. You should have seen the first transmission she sent in reply.”  
  
Jun followed Sho to the ship’s rear, and he stood a pace behind as they opened the hatch. “You didn’t tell her you took me along.”  
  
“And risk being denied? I think she knew I had someone with me the moment you answered the first hail. What I don’t understand is why she still let us through,” Sho said. And with a lowered voice: “Be on your guard. You’re the first Saiphan stepping foot in this planet, and because of that, they’re keen to find any fault in your actions.”  
  
“I won’t do anything that will compromise you,” Jun said. “We’re in enough danger as it is.”  
  
“Well said,” Sho told him, straightening his posture as they climbed down the ship, meeting a sentry composed entirely of women.  
  
“I’m General Ishihara,” the one leading the group said. She was shorter than both of them, her beauty undeniable despite the lack of any rouge on her cheeks. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she eyed Jun longer than she did Sho. “On behalf of Her Majesty, I welcome you to Denebia, Emperor Apparent Sho.”  
  
“Her Majesty is gracious,” Sho said, inclining his head in acceptance. Jun imitated him. “We’re honored to be welcomed.”  
  
“This way,” Ishihara told them, leading them out of the spaceport through a tunnel that directly led inside the palace. There was no time to gawk at their surroundings, but Jun noticed that most of the furnishings inside the palace were old. The interior itself indicated how long the halls it was within had stood. “Her Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”  
  
“I am aware,” Sho said, trudging after her. They were flanked on all sides by Ishihara’s soldiers, and they multitasked, beginning to search Jun without asking for permission as they walked.  
  
A look from Sho told him clearly: Do not fight it.  
  
Jun permitted the search begrudgingly, and when one soldier tapped meaningfully on his phasers, he turned his gaze to Sho.  
  
“He’s a bodyguard,” Sho explained with a smile. He looked so deceivingly innocent that Jun had to look the other way lest his features express his distrust.  
  
“Do you think you’ll be attacked here?” Ishihara asked.  
  
“I never said that,” Sho told her. “But as you know, General, being royalty demands many things, most of which are no longer essential to the ordinary citizen. I can promise that he will only shoot when provoked. He wasn’t trained to be trigger-happy.”  
  
Trained. For a moment, Jun was tempted to stun Sho with his phaser.  
  
“It’s your nature that we do not trust,” Ishihara told them.  
  
“Yes, we men are untrustworthy,” Sho agreed. “I propose a compromise then: you won’t relieve my bodyguard of his weapons and I will agree to send him out should Her Majesty ask for it. My life for my safety.”  
  
Ishihara was surprised. Jun wouldn’t deny that he was, too. The deal made no sense.  
  
Are you mad? Jun wanted to ask. But he settled for giving Sho a look and shaking his head once when their eyes met.  
  
Sho ignored him, his soft smile directed at Ishihara, who appeared thoughtful.  
  
“I will bring this up to Her Majesty,” Ishihara said, walking once more. “But for now, let him keep his phasers.”  
  
“You have my gratitude,” Sho told her, and the soldiers stepped back from Jun.  
  
They reached the throne room, and Jun was graced with the sight of a lone throne that was situated at the top of the dais. Queen Ryoko sat with legs crossed, arms on the rests of her golden chair.  
  
Ishihara bowed and introduced Sho before stepping aside, and Sho lowered himself on one knee and gave his respects. Jun did the same, and they didn’t look up even when they heard footsteps. Ishihara was undoubtedly informing the queen about letting Jun keep his weapons.  
  
When Ishihara descended the dais, the queen spoke.  
  
“I’ve been told you don’t play well with others, Emperor Apparent,” she said with amusement, “and yet here you are with someone. Is he for show? To tell me otherwise or to mislead me?”  
  
“To tell you otherwise,” Sho said in formal Denebian. “My reputation precedes me, Your Majesty. Most of the things you’ve heard about me are only half-true.”  
  
“I’ve never seen a Saiphan up close,” she told them. To Jun: “Lift your head.”  
  
Jun did, meeting her eyes. He felt as if she could see through him.  
  
“A lovely face,” she said. She looked at Sho and continued, “I see why you keep him around. With him, you’re quite the sight to behold.”  
  
Then her gaze flitted across the room, to the corner where some ladies of the court were whispering and giggling. “Some of these women haven’t encountered men of high status before. You’d forgive their curiosity.”  
  
“I do not mind it,” Sho said, inclining his head. “I’m honored, in fact. I do know that my bodyguard is quite fetching; there are times people fail to look at me because of him.”  
  
To Jun’s surprise, Ryoko cracked a smile at that. “They told me you can be quite charming if you put your mind to it.”  
  
“Does it appear as if I’m exerting effort?” Sho asked. “I assure you, this comes naturally.”  
  
Jun felt as if he was listening to a stranger talk. This wasn’t Sho. The Sho he knew had a comeback ready for any kind of barb. The Sho he knew spat venom even when not provoked.  
  
Seeing it for the first time certainly leaves an impression, Kiko had said.  
  
Jun wondered if it was his mere presence that had caused Sho to say unkind words to him in the past. Perhaps. Because the Sho he was witnessing now was effortlessly working his way into charming everyone in Ryoko’s court.  
  
And he was succeeding. Jun could see the looks of adoration, once directed at him now shifting to Sho. The more Sho spoke, the more he seemed to win everyone’s favor. He had all of their attention, and he seemed to know exactly what to do with it.  
  
He’s dangerous, Jun thought. In this desert planet, he’s a sand viper.  
  
“We all know why you came here,” Ryoko told Sho when they appeared to be done with the pleasantries. She had a smile on her face, and Jun knew it was Sho who’d put it there. “You need men for your army.”  
  
“No,” Sho said, earning more whispers from the court. “I need women.”  
  
Ryoko wasn’t expecting that, her eyes narrowing at Sho.  
  
“I’ve been told once that women know better,” Sho continued. Jun knew who could’ve said such a thing to him; he’d heard it from the person himself. “And in the years that passed, I’ve proven that to be true. Yes, I need an army. But not just any army.”  
  
“You want my best and finest,” Ryoko said, waving a hand to the direction where Ishihara and her soldiers stood guard. “In exchange for what?”  
  
“Name your price,” Sho said.  
  
Ryoko regarded him coolly, the pale column of her neck in plain view as she tilted her head in consideration. The glittering diamonds adorning her ear only added to her regal appearance. “Denebia is not allied with Hamal.”  
  
“When I’m emperor, we will be,” Sho said.  
  
“There is no treaty in existence,” Ryoko said. “And before you say that it can be arranged, Emperor Apparent, there’s still something else I require. Something more permanent.”  
  
“I’ve heard of your search for a suitable successor,” Sho said. “There are candidates, yes, but none of the women you’re considering possess a title befitting the crown in the future.”  
  
“And what do you offer, future emperor?” Ryoko asked, despite obviously knowing.  
  
“An heir when the time comes,” Sho said.  
  
“Even without marriage?” Ryoko had both eyebrows raised now. “You Hamali are people of tradition. Are you doing away with tradition?”  
  
“Tradition would dictate that I remain in my planet and await the war to come without doing anything,” Sho said. “My presence here should be answer enough.”  
  
Ryoko rested her chin on her knuckles, eyes fixed on Sho. “And if you become emperor, what of your heir? Say I accept your offer, you will have no claim to the child. The child will be Denebia’s.”  
  
“Provided the child is a female,” Sho said.  
  
“Of course,” Ryoko said. “If the child is a male, he cannot inherit my throne.”  
  
“Then he will become my heir in that event,” Sho said. “Send the child to Hamal.”  
  
“That will forfeit your terms in the deal,” Ryoko said. “You’re asking me to gamble with my throne.”  
  
“My throne for yours,” Sho said. “See me emperor, and I will see you securing your claim to the Denebian throne.”  
  
“Why should I tie Denebia’s future with your uncertain one? If you lose the civil war, I lose my best soldiers along with a successor.”  
  
“Unless I provide the potential successor now,” Sho said.  
  
That earned him Ryoko’s small smile; Jun could tell Ryoko hadn’t been expecting that.  
  
“Given the technology that we have, it’ll be quick to determine if the child will be female,” Sho said. “If I succeed in giving you an heir, you will give me an army to come to my aid when the war happens. I do not ask for them to swear fealty to me; their loyalty to you is sufficient.”  
  
Ryoko leaned back on her throne, her ringed fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on her armrest. When she opened her mouth, she was looking at Sho alone. “I’ve heard that you don’t require some of your men to make a pledge.”  
  
“Some of them are not sworn to me, yes,” Sho affirmed.  
  
“But you trust that they will see your cause till its conclusion?”  
  
“I do,” Sho said.  
  
“You harbor outlaws in your army,” Ryoko said. “And you speak of them in high regard?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho answered simply.  
  
“How come?”  
  
“It’s not me they chose to follow. They follow those who chose to follow me,” Sho said. “Their loyalty is questionable, yes, but I simply needed the numbers. Whether they fight for my crown or for their freedom should they serve well is up to them. I won’t require anyone to pledge themselves to me—” he nodded in Ishihara’s direction, “—since they don’t know me.”  
  
“But they know me,” Ryoko said.  
  
Sho only smiled.  
  
For a moment, Jun thought the queen would require a recess. She studied Sho for a few seconds more, perhaps attempting to gauge his sincerity.  
  
Jun chanced a glance at Sho and thought that there was nothing to see except the charm that Sho had been exuding in abundance for a while now.  
  
“An heir for an army,” Ryoko said after exchanging a look with Ishihara. “You have a deal, Emperor Apparent. Fulfill your end of the bargain now.”  
  
Ishihara stepped forward, and Jun situated himself between her and Sho.  
  
“He’s rather protective, isn’t he?” Ryoko asked, amused.  
  
“She will just escort me,” Sho murmured, his mouth hardly moving. “They do not require me to lay with any of their women; they’re just going to take me to the infirmary to have what they need.”  
  
“That will require you to be alone with them still,” Jun told him. “You said I should stay by your side.”  
  
“I would rather you did not while I do what I must do,” Sho said. “Stay here.” Jun didn’t budge. “And let go of my arm.”  
  
“No,” Jun said. He hadn’t realized he’d grabbed Sho, but it was done. “I don’t care if you’re embarrassed; I can stay in the infirmary.”  
  
“Let him do as he wishes,” Ryoko said to Sho, her smile wide and pleased. “It’s a shame he isn’t royalty; he would have made beautiful children. Go. And when you return, we will have a feast, to celebrate our newly formed alliance.”  
  
Sho inclined his head in acceptance and gratitude, giving one last bow before he allowed Ishihara to escort him, Jun walking on his other side. They reached the infirmary without exchanging any small talk with Ishihara or her soldiers, and once inside, they led Sho to an examination room and told him to wait.  
  
Despite the look Sho threw his way, Jun refused to leave. He would, once the physician arrived. But till then, he would stay.  
  
“We need to do something about your attachment tendencies,” Sho said since they were alone.  
  
“You’re the one who told me to follow your rules,” Jun said. “I’m not letting you walk in here unguarded.”  
  
“I was trying to exhibit trust,” Sho said. “Which you have splendidly undone, by the way. Though I think you amused Her Majesty with your actions.”  
  
Jun thought the same; the queen had referred to him as Sho’s companion despite Sho’s introduction.  
  
“You’ve done it,” Jun said. “You have an army.”  
  
“I haven’t signed a treaty yet,” Sho said.  
  
“But you know it’s being drafted as we speak,” Jun told him. “We will return to Hamal with a Denebian army.”  
  
“An army of women,” Sho said. “Yes, that should amuse the snake in my mother’s council; they’re notorious for their sexism. They can’t show any of it to my mother though, since she’s Empress.”  
  
“Is that why you chose Denebia to aid you? Because their army itself will annoy the enemy in your planet?”  
  
“Because in the event that we are victorious, their loss will be twice as bitter,” Sho said. “I don’t play just for the sake of participation; I play to win. My throne is at stake here. If my mother chooses to engage in civil war, I have to be ready to defend my claim to the throne.”  
  
“And you are,” Jun told him. “The Denebian army is Her Majesty’s finest. She won’t be sending soldiers to you; she’ll be sending her best warriors. Combine that with the army you have in the outskirts, it should be enough.”  
  
“I have five thousand Hamali in the outskirts, ready to answer when called,” Sho said. “Half of that number are the outlaws I’ve recruited in my search for more men. If Denebia gives me five thousand more, that’s roughly the size of my mother’s army in Sheratan.”  
  
“You still haven’t told me about who we’re fighting against,” Jun said. “I’ve taken you this far; I deserve to know.”  
  
Sho gave him a cool look, and Jun leveled his gaze.  
  
“Later then,” Sho said. They heard the doors swooshing open, and a physician stepped in. “Wait for me outside.”  
  
Jun departed as soon as the physician drew the curtains shut, and he stood beside the now closed doors along with Ishihara. Her soldiers were gone, and she appeared to be waiting for Jun.  
  
“Is your emperor’s offer true?” Ishihara asked.  
  
“It is,” Jun said. “With your planet’s aid, he can save his planet.”  
  
“He is one man,” Ishihara said. “We’ve never been led by a man.”  
  
“He will not lead you,” Jun said. “You will lead your soldiers to battle, at least until this skirmish comes to an end and your planet has fulfilled their end of the bargain. And if you’re still troubled by the idea of that, his head of security is a woman.”  
  
“A woman,” Ishihara said, devoid of any emotion.  
  
“I never won against her in single combat,” Jun said. Keiko had made him kiss the floor mats in all of their subsequent matches. A few days after, Kiko had sent him to the dust.  
  
Ishihara sported a frown now. “And yet you are his personal bodyguard?”  
  
“He has his reasons,” Jun said, not wanting to comment on how unpredictable Sho’s thinking was. He must make Ishihara believe that Sho was a person worthy of the queen’s trust.  
  
Ishihara’s eyes narrowed, and it took Jun a few seconds.  
  
“It’s not like that,” Jun said, but he knew it was too late. He suppressed the overwhelming urge to sigh.  
  
“And you?” Ishihara asked with a lilt of amusement. “What is expected of you in this upcoming war?”  
  
Jun looked over his shoulder, at the shut doors of the infirmary.  
  
There was no other answer.  
  
“Stay by his side,” he said.  
  
\--  
  
Sho had a slight flush to his cheeks when the doors of the infirmary slid open to let him through, and Jun pursed his lips.  
  
“You’re making a very unappealing expression,” Sho said. Jun noticed that Sho only met his eyes briefly. “Do not laugh.”  
  
Jun jerked his head to the side and said, “We should go. General Ishihara will be escorting us to the banquet hall.”  
  
Sho extended an arm and Ishihara began walking, the two of them following her footsteps that hardly made any sound despite the thick padding of the soles of her boots.  
  
“Have you fulfilled your end of the bargain?” Jun asked.  
  
“Let’s save that talk when we meet Her Majesty once more,” Sho said.  
  
Jun stuck with silence, but he kept casting furtive glances in Sho’s direction. Sho wouldn’t step out of the infirmary until he had, in some way, ensured that he’d provided a female heir. No matter how many tests and extractions the Denebian physician had conducted, Sho must’ve agreed to do all of them until they’d obtained the results they wanted.  
  
Simply put, Sho’s refusal to talk to him meant a yes, and he was merely avoiding conversing with Jun out of embarrassment. What Sho had done in that infirmary was no secret.  
  
It amused Jun, that he now had a perfectly acceptable reason of laughing at Sho. But he refrained from doing so, intending to save that for later in private.  
  
The banquet hall was as grand as the throne room had been; the interior was similar. There was a dais with a long table at its top, and a golden chair was situated at the center of the table. Ishihara led them to the dais, and they passed by a series of long tables with Denebian cuisine being placed on their surfaces.  
  
The hall was beginning to get filled with people, and Jun noticed that most of them were female soldiers. The ladies of the court climbed up to the dais and took their respective places, and upon the announcement of the queen’s entrance into the hall, Jun caught Sho straightening his already perfect posture and looking out.  
  
Queen Ryoko had a smile on her face that made her appear serene and benevolent. Her strides were evenly paced and graceful, her long dress revealing the tips of her shoes as she walked. When she finally took her seat, she gestured for Sho to sit beside her.  
  
Jun could sense that every pair of eyes in the hall was on them, and he wondered when was the last time a man had been granted the tremendous honor of sitting at the high table. As a bodyguard, Jun remained at the back of Sho’s seat, his eyes already searching for escape routes should something unprecedented happen.  
  
“First, a toast,” Ryoko said, her voice carrying out into the hall. She lifted her goblet, and Jun saw Sho do the same. “To our negotiations ending swiftly. I thought you’d make it complicated and prolong our talk.”  
  
“I thought you’d hate it if I had done that,” Sho said.  
  
“I would have,” Ryoko admitted with a smile, and she drained her goblet and asked immediately for a refill. If Sho drank, Jun couldn’t tell. He hadn’t consumed enough to be able to tell when Jun took a peek at his goblet.  
  
“Your bodyguard should be beside you,” Ryoko said to Sho, and with a tilt of her chin, there was a brief shuffling of seats until the one next to Sho was devoid of an occupant. “I think it will unsettle him greatly if he wasn’t.”  
  
“He takes his duty seriously,” Sho said. He exchanged one look with Jun and Jun took the seat beside him. “Thank you for your hospitality.”  
  
Jun bowed his head in gratitude.  
  
His plate and goblet were refilled by an attendant, and he tried very hard to eavesdrop in Sho and Ryoko’s conversation despite the celebration taking life in front of them. There was a Denebian dance performance happening at the center of the hall, and listening to the lyrics of the music told Jun it was a dance of courtship.  
  
Courtship of women by women, and briefly, it took Jun’s attention away.  
  
“Do you want to see the treaty my council has drafted?” Jun heard Ryoko ask.  
  
He focused on sampling a portion of his food but he started listening intently.  
  
“I was hoping Her Majesty could tell me what other terms does she want me to agree to,” Sho said. “It would save time, and that’s how you want it, isn’t it?”  
  
He heard more than saw Ryoko smile. “My soldiers want weapons.”  
  
“I’m afraid there is a shortage of that in my camp,” Sho said. “We barely have enough for each man.”  
  
“No, I was pertaining to the spoils of war,” Ryoko said. “The weapons of your enemies that will be slain in the hands of my soldiers will be theirs.”  
  
“Done,” Sho said. “Anything else?”  
  
“If my women spare someone, they may claim that person for themselves,” Ryoko said.  
  
Jun waited for Sho’s response to that. Hamal was against any form of slavery, but the spoils of war weren’t included in that practice.  
  
“All right,” Sho said.  
  
“Regardless of who they are,” Ryoko said.  
  
“My mother’s army consists of men who are not sworn to me since I am not the emperor. Should any of them be spared, your soldiers may have them. I don’t think Hamal has enough prison cells to house them all, anyway,” Sho said.  
  
That amused Ryoko, who let out a small chuckle. “You’re surprisingly agreeable to all of this, contrary to what I’ve been informed of. I can only think of one reason.”  
  
“Aside from my obvious need for aid?” Sho asked curiously, charmingly.  
  
“Yes. You’ve ensured that I have an heir,” Ryoko said.  
  
“The extraction was successful,” Sho said. “In case the fertilization fails the first time, I have provided three other specimens. The rest is up to your laboratory.”  
  
“This child will not know you are her sire,” Ryoko said. “For all intents and purposes, she will be a child of Denebia, heir to my throne. Her Hamali origin will never be revealed to her, but she will be purely royal blood.”  
  
“I have no objections to that,” Sho said. “If you’re afraid I might lay claim to the child when I become emperor and am in need of an heir, there are other ways. I will not take what is rightfully Denebia’s. That is not the Hamali way.”  
  
“Then that portion of the treaty is settled. Denebia will have no obligations to Hamal once the war is over,” Ryoko said.  
  
“If your army helps me secure my throne, I will consider your end of the bargain fulfilled,” Sho said.  
  
Jun stilled at that. After the civil war, there was a threat of a Saiphan invasion. But Sho had just said he wouldn’t be expecting Denebia’s aid at that time, and there was no way that his army could defeat Saiph’s. They’d be short on hands when that time comes.  
  
“Denebia will not answer for you if Saiph declares war on you,” Ryoko said. “My planet will not be involved in such matters; we have no quarrel with Saiph despite my constant refusals to meet their royalty.”  
  
“And I will never ask that from you,” Sho said. “You have my word. Only until my throne as secure.”  
  
“Very well. We will sign the treaty after this.” Ryoko gestured to the attendants, and they began clearing the tables for the next course. “In the meantime, enlighten me. Why do you have a Saiphan for a bodyguard?”  
  
“Because he’s the last person anyone would expect to be protecting me,” Sho said. Jun watched him partake in Denebian cuisine, his face lighting up. “This tastes divine.”  
  
“Yes, we make sure our food is something replicators can’t get right,” Ryoko said, but she didn’t sound like she was deterred by Sho’s poor attempt at deflection. “How did you come by him?”  
  
“He found himself into my service before either of us knew it,” Sho said. “I asked for men for my army and he was there.”  
  
“And he’s undoubtedly a standout,” Ryoko said. “I find it very amusing that he shares the surname of the royal family of Saiph. I’d never thought the day would come that I’d personally witness a Sakurai working together with a Matsumoto, despite his surname being rather ordinary in occurrence.”  
  
Jun pointedly looked at his food and tried to eat as casually as he could, pretending to not have heard a thing.  
  
“I agree that it’s the most unlikely combination,” Sho said. “I’m glad it gave you amusement, though.”  
  
“He seems very loyal to your cause. In a way, I somehow regret I won’t be able to witness his stand if you end up fighting against Saiph,” Ryoko said.  
  
“These are matters to be addressed at another time,” Sho said. “I hope you forgive my curiosity, Your Majesty, but you agreed to my request while you declined Saiph’s. May I know why?”  
  
“The queen of Saiph intended to send her herald to me. She claimed she was grieving at the time, you see,” Ryoko explained. “I would admit she has originality. But if her business with me is so urgent, she needs to come personally.”  
  
“As I did,” Sho said.  
  
Ryoko laughed. “Yes, as you did.”  
  
“If Saiph asks for your aid to invade my planet, what will you say?” Sho asked.  
  
Ryoko hummed in thought. “Hypothetically speaking? We both know Saiph doesn’t need my help if all she wants is to have your planet. I meant no offense; I am simply telling the truth.”  
  
Sho shook his head in dismissal. “I am not offended. As I said, Majesty, I am merely curious.”  
  
“Saiph has nothing to offer that I will want,” Ryoko said with finality. “Their Crown Prince is missing and likely dead, and my throne is already secure thanks to you.”  
  
Sho inclined his head in gratitude, saying nothing more in the language of kings and queens. He ate and made small talk regarding the seasons and trade routes, the growing problem of space pirates within the vicinity. Jun didn’t know how Sho had managed to cram all that information inside his head, but perhaps that was what all the readings he’d done in Otonoha were for.  
  
Sho was proving to be a talented conversant, sending Ryoko to laughter every now and then. It was nearly three hours later before Ryoko invited him to her study, and Sho gave Jun one look that told him he didn’t need to follow.  
  
Jun returned Sho’s look with one of his own, and he caught Ryoko smiling in his periphery.  
  
“Allow my general to escort your bodyguard to your quarters,” Ryoko said. “There’s a solar flare prediction that will last for half a day, and it’ll be troublesome if your ship gets caught in it.”  
  
“I am thankful for your generosity and hospitality,” Sho said. To Jun: “Follow the general. That should give you something to do while I’m gone.”  
  
Jun gave a curt nod in acceptance, and he stood as the entire hall rose after Ryoko did.  
  
“Come, Emperor Apparent,” Ryoko said. “It’s time to document your hard work for today.”  
  
Jun watched them leave, and he followed Ishihara out of the hall as soon as Sho was out of sight. Ishihara led him to a guest room in a deserted hall, tinkering with the console at the side of the doors to be permitted entrance.  
  
Jun surveyed the room as quickly as he could, frowning at the sight of the bedroom before him.  
  
There was only one bed.  
  
It was big enough to fit two grown men, but Jun had to turn and ask for a cot or a sleeping bag.  
  
Ishihara seemed puzzled, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Why do you require an additional mattress?”  
  
“I am a bodyguard,” Jun said. “I sleep at the foot of his bed.”  
  
“Is that how things are in Hamal?” Ishihara asked. “In Denebia, there is no distinction in the bedroom. The queen shares her bed with her bodyguard as a gesture of utmost trust.”  
  
Jun had never heard of this in any of his cultural studies. But perhaps things were easier for Denebian royalty since they consisted of women. With women, it wouldn’t be strange to share such things.  
  
“Yes, that is how things are in Hamal,” Jun said anyway.  
  
“But you are not in Hamal,” Ishihara said, making her way out of the room and her point clear. “Rest well.”  
  
The doors slid shut and she was gone, and Jun looked up and found security cameras all over the room. If he slept in the couch, would it be considered as an insult to the Denebians?  
  
He needed Sho to send him to the couch as soon as Sho returns.  
  
Jun had to wait for half an hour before he heard the doors swooshing open, and he saw Sho looking around before his eyes landed on Jun’s form.  
  
Jun had been sitting on the edge of the bed since he’d grown tired of pacing, and he explained the situation as best as he could.  
  
“There are cameras so I think we will be watched,” Jun said. “Fortunately, I don’t think the cameras are designed to record our voices.”  
  
“I see,” Sho said, and he began dressing down for bed, shrugging off his coat to drape it over the nearest chair. “Well? Do you intend to just stare as I prepare to sleep or will you at least do the same? We have to leave early so as not to overstay our welcome.”  
  
“Order me to sleep on the couch,” Jun said. Had he been prince still, he’d never settle for anything less than the bed. But things were different now.  
  
“And risk forfeiting the treaty because I chose to disrespect their culture? No. You’ve caused enough trouble in the infirmary, one we just barely avoided. If this is a test, I intend to excel. We sleep as Denebians do.”  
  
Jun opened his mouth, but Sho gave him a look. “That’s final, Matsumoto. Do not speak unless spoken to.”  
  
Jun gritted his teeth but otherwise remained silent as asked. He gave Sho his back and dressed down, leaving only his tunic on as well as his undergarments. He heard Sho climb onto the bed and let out a breath.  
  
Given the choice between suffering through Sho’s annoying comments and sharing a bed with him, Jun thought he’d likely choose the comments.  
  
He waited until Sho was settled comfortably on his side of the bed before he climbed on, overly conscious of its other occupant. From the looks of it, they had to share the blanket too. Jun was grateful the Denebians had the care to provide more pillows; he could at least shove one between him and Sho once Sho was asleep.  
  
“Stop that,” Sho said in irritation.  
  
Jun stared at him. “I’m not doing anything.”  
  
“You keep moving about and it’s as if I can hear you thinking,” Sho complained. “Everything about you is loud. Be quiet. I’m exhausted enough and I intend to rest. Lights at five percent.”  
  
Not for the first time, Jun was overcome with the urge to wring Sho’s neck.  
  
This, he wanted to say to Queen Ryoko, this is how he truly is.  
  
He shifted, and he heard Sho sigh.  
  
“It’s not my fault I can barely fit on this side,” Jun reasoned.  
  
“Because you keep trying to leave a space between us as if we’re still waiting for another occupant,” Sho said. “Will it kill you to be reasonable for once?”  
  
Jun wanted to hurl the same words at him. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one weirded out by this development.”  
  
“What, sharing a bed with my sworn enemy? I’ve done worse, had worse. You flatter yourself.”  
  
Jun decided to shut his eyes in a desperate effort to pretend that Sho wasn’t so close by. Hours ago, he hadn’t let the man out of his sight. Right now, he’d give anything.  
  
The blissful silence wasn’t meant to last since Sho spoke once more.  
  
“I already told Keiko she is to work side-by-side with the general,” Sho said.  
  
That was wise, and Jun told him so. “The general told me they’ve never been commanded by a man before. I think Keiko-san is the right choice since her husband has also done reconnaissance in this planet.”  
  
Sho didn’t say anything, and Jun turned his head to face him. “Something bothers you still,” he concluded after a moment.  
  
“I really dislike how you can simply tell,” Sho said. “Is it so easy for you?”  
  
Easy? Nothing about Sho was easy, Jun thought. He had no idea what Sho was talking about.  
  
“Tell me,” he said instead. When Sho stuck with silence, he added, “You’ve got no one else to tell.”  
  
“Yes, you seem very keen about reminding me of that,” Sho said.  
  
Jun waited, and when it felt like Sho wouldn’t speak, Jun opened his mouth to take the words back.  
  
“I fear the worse is yet to come,” Sho admitted in a small voice, halting Jun’s words. “I didn’t expect we’d be able to get that treaty signed so quickly. It’s as if there’s something else.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
For a moment, Jun thought Sho wasn’t going to reply. But he did. “I have a feeling I’m being watched. Closely. Closer than I expect.”  
  
“Here?” Jun never had the impression that the Denebians were treacherous.  
  
“No, not here,” Sho said with a shake of his head. “But what I left in Sheratan may have followed me.”  
  
Jun could feel his blood turning cold, and he chose his words carefully as he spoke. “You think you have a spy in the outskirts? That’s impossible; the Hamali you have there are under Aiba and they are fiercely loyal to you. As for the outlaws, they’re terrified of Ohno.”  
  
“I can’t explain it,” Sho said, and he sounded frustrated now. “But it prevents me from being overjoyed at securing the Denebian army.”  
  
“You accomplished something great today,” Jun said. “Something that will be engraved in history when the time comes. Bit by bit, you’re already forging your own empire. That’s something to be joyous over.”  
  
“Not if I’ll be murdered in the next moment,” Sho said. “Something like this...this comfort, this moment of tranquility—it’s not meant to last. These are things I have to fight for, before.”  
  
Jun rolled to his side so he could see Sho better. “What happened to you?” he asked; he could no longer help himself. It had been on his mind since Ohno had said those words to him.  
  
“You mean how did I become like this?” Sho asked. “Independent? Self-sustaining?”  
  
“Something like that,” Jun said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”  
  
I’m still your enemy, Jun thought. I was raised to be.  
  
Sho’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I was a frail, sickly child at birth. They all thought I wouldn’t survive infancy, and when I did, they thought it would only be a matter of time. It was fortunate that my planet’s tradition is to name heirs once they reach the age of thirty. I had a countdown.”  
  
“But you did survive,” Jun said.  
  
“It wasn’t easy,” Sho said. “How many people do you think wanted the Hamali throne after discovering that the firstborn son of the Empress might not make it? I was simultaneously fighting disease and trying to avoid being assassinated. Imagine living with constant attempts made to your life. I tell you, the longer you survive, the more it warps the mind, especially that of a child.”  
  
“But you’ve been named heir,” Jun said. “That should have put a stop to all of that.”  
  
“Not if the snake still thrives in the council,” Sho said. “I’ve set enough traps to draw him out. I believe it’s only a matter of time.”  
  
“This enemy we’re fighting,” Jun began, “tell me about them.”  
  
“Challengers to the throne since they believe I won’t be adequate,” Sho said. “My mother has been fending them off for years, but they are yet to cease. Last I’ve heard, they’ve formed an army amongst themselves, though not large enough to stand a chance against my mother’s.”  
  
Jun frowned. “That doesn’t explain why you have an army of your own.”  
  
“I am preparing for the worst,” Sho said. “I don’t know what will happen yet, but I’ve trained myself to prepare for the worst. If the time comes that I have to fight two armies, at least I am ready.”  
  
“Your mother won’t fight you,” Jun said. “She’s your mother.”  
  
Sho didn’t say anything in response, and Jun allowed the silence to linger, rolling to his back once more so he could stare at the ceiling. He’s never been good at providing comfort. The right words eluded him when he needed them most.  
  
“I’m glad I’m not alone here in a strange planet,” Sho whispered, too soft that Jun almost didn’t hear him. “This is the first time that I’m not.”  
  
Sho then turned to his side to give Jun his back, and Jun took it as his cue to not comment on Sho’s admission.  
  
“Good night,” he said instead, shutting his eyes.  
  
He might be imagining it, but he thought he heard Sho say it in return before sleep claimed him.  
  
\--  
  
Jun woke with the morning sun of Denebia shining on his face, and he rubbed the sleep off his eyes before he sat up. The chronometer on the nightstand beside him indicated that it was early morning, that had he been in Hamal, the sun wouldn’t be up yet at this hour.  
  
He could hear a muffled conversation from the room adjacent to the bedroom, and he could recognize Sho speaking. He couldn’t make out the words, and he picked up his phaser and set it to stun as he crept slowly, trying not to make too much noise.  
  
When he reached the corner, he slowly took a peek and he found Sho on the couch, a pad in his hands. He appeared to be engaged in a live transmission.  
  
“There is something for you there,” he heard Sho say. “If it’s a trap, what do you have to lose? You only have to survey the moon; you don’t have to land on it.”  
  
Jun revealed himself then, and he saw Sho hold up a hand to silence whoever he was talking to.  
  
“Consider my proposition,” Sho said. “Until then.” He swiped his finger and the transmission ended, and now Jun was suspicious.  
  
“Who were you talking to just now?” he asked.  
  
Sho switched off his pad and said, “No one important. Must I report everything to you?”  
  
“As your bodyguard, I have the right to know.”  
  
“This isn’t one of those things.” Sho stood, pad tucked under his arm. “Make yourself presentable. We go to court to bid farewell, then we’re off this planet.”  
  
Jun noticed then that he was wearing the same clothes when he’d gone to bed the previous night. There was no room for embarrassment, however; time was of the essence. He went back to the bedroom and started shrugging his clothes back on, tucking his weapons in their respective places on his body.  
  
He managed to wash up a bit in the washroom before he stepped out, and he found Sho lingering by the door.  
  
Without a word, Sho made his exit and Jun trudged after him. Jun couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d witnessed the next crucial step in Sho’s plan, but he knew asking outright would be futile. Sho would never tell him a thing.  
  
Queen Ryoko had a small feast prepared for them still, but she was absent in the banquet hall when they reached it. They were ushered to their respective seats, and once seated, Sho started eating like nothing was amiss.  
  
“You should eat,” Sho said after a moment. “We’ve got a long way to go.”  
  
“Do we have to stop over somewhere?” Jun asked as he began partaking.  
  
Sho swallowed what he was chewing before he replied, “According to the treaty I signed, we will rendezvous with the remaining half of the Denebian army. They’re on their way back from a peace mission, but having received Her Majesty’s new missive, they are to meet us halfway to Hamal.”  
  
Sho subsequently briefed him about what to do, and Jun settled for just giving nods of acknowledgement. Sho paused when an attendant approached him, and Jun overheard that the queen was expecting them at the spaceport as soon as they were done.  
  
“We will be there shortly,” Sho said to the attendant, who excused herself then. To Jun: “We must hurry.”  
  
“I know,” Jun said, standing. “Her Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you said.”  
  
“You were listening,” Sho said, and he permitted the soldiers to escort them with a tilt of his head. “Is that a habit of yours? How many of my conversations have you overheard?”  
  
“Including the one you engaged in just before we had to eat?”  
  
Sho smiled in amusement—a rarity for him. “Including that.”  
  
“It’s not my fault you speak louder than you should,” Jun told him.  
  
“I think it’s because you possess quite the large ears,” Sho said, pointing to the side of his face. He clucked his tongue repeatedly. “That habit has to go too.”  
  
“I’d stop if you start telling me what’s going on,” Jun said.  
  
“But I do tell you what’s going on,” Sho said in fake-surprise. “In fact, I’ve already told you many things you weren’t supposed to know. You ought to be grateful.”  
  
Jun remembered the night before, and he realized that perhaps, he’d been the only person to whom Sho had admitted such things to.  
  
They spent the rest of the trek to the spaceport in silence; Jun didn’t know what else to say. Sho was conversing with a soldier anyway, asking about whatever piqued his curiosity as they passed by certain wings of the palace. He inquired about the interior, the palace history, the average length of sandstorms. They were all innocuous questions—nothing incriminating, and Jun thought that was Sho’s way of refusing to talk to him.  
  
When they reached the spaceport and found the queen, she stood next to their ship in her extravagant garb. She was tall and she commanded authority with a single glance, and Sho knelt on one knee in reverence as soon as he was in front of her.  
  
Jun did the same, not lifting his head until told to do so.  
  
“Your Majesty has honored me and my bodyguard tremendously, and that is something I will never forget,” Sho said. “It is unlikely that we will meet again, but know that across the galaxy, Denebia will have a friend in Hamal.”  
  
Ryoko smiled and ordered Sho to rise, hands resting on his shoulders. “Denebia is your ally until your throne is secure. May the stars shine upon you, Emperor Apparent. If we meet again, I hope it is as equals—queen and emperor.”  
  
“You have my gratitude, Your Majesty.” Sho bowed his head once more, and Ryoko took a step back, extending her hand towards the ship.  
  
“We’ve provided enough supplies for you to make the journey,” Ryoko said. “Take care of my soldiers, Emperor Apparent. They are yours for the time being.”  
  
Sho put his hand over his heart and gestured for Jun to stand. Jun followed him as he climbed aboard their ship, and the last thing he saw before he sealed the hatch was the queen leaving and her soldiers dispersing.  
  
“They’ll come with us,” Sho said, already making his way to the bridge. “When we get to Hamal, we bring an entire army.”  
  
That would explain General Ishihara’s absence earlier. She must’ve been commanding her troops already, their ships prepared for takeoff.  
  
Jun opened the ship’s communication channel and approved all incoming requests, syncing their ship’s channel with the rest of the Denebian army.  
  
“Stay at the back,” Jun said, fastening his seatbelt. “And put your seatbelt on. If you remember how roughly we landed here, it’s going to be twice of that since we have to go against gravity.”  
  
Sho left, and Jun started flipping switches. He’d already mapped the return route, but he still had to make adjustments to it since they had to get half of the army. He focused on getting the ship out of Denebia and not what waited for them, but his mind kept returning to what he’d overheard this morning.  
  
It had been Sho making another arrangement. What for, Jun didn’t know yet. He had a feeling he would soon enough.  
  
He gave his affirmative when he heard Ishihara’s voice through the communication channel, confirming their location by sending coordinates. They made the hyperspace jump as soon as they were out of Denebia’s gates, and Jun unfastened his seatbelt to search for Sho when he had the ship on autopilot.  
  
He found Sho on the observation deck of the small ship, a window that only showed a portion of what was outside. If Sho had heard him approach, he made no indication of it. He sat with one leg folded in front of him, his arm resting on his knee.  
  
From this angle, Jun could see the line of his jaw, barely noticeable whenever they stood face-to-face.  
  
“What are you thinking of?” Jun asked.  
  
“Many things,” Sho replied, not looking at him still. “Which one would you like to know?”  
  
“The most pressing,” Jun said. He had to make the most of this moment. Sho wasn’t normally this open to revealing things to him.  
  
“Something is waiting for us out there,” Sho said with certainty. “You don’t feel it?”  
  
“What, dread? The impending sense of doom?” Jun asked. “I do. But unlike before, I feel as if we stand a chance. That we can fight back against whatever’s coming.” He noticed the look on Sho’s face and added, “I know you play to win. But we can’t win instantly.”  
  
The expression didn’t leave Sho’s face, and Jun frowned.  
  
“You don’t want to fight,” he said.  
  
“What?” Sho asked, but it came out weakly—like Jun had said the right thing.  
  
“If you could, you’d rather avoid it,” Jun said. “You don’t want any blood spilled since regardless of the side they’re on, they’re your people.”  
  
Sho averted his eyes in response.  
  
“You do know it’s too late for that, right?” Jun asked. “You have to fight as well.”  
  
“Do you take pleasure in this? Reminding me of what I have to do knowing full well I am aware of them?” Sho asked.  
  
“Is that why you killed those men?” Jun asked quietly. Sho didn’t respond, but Jun now knew that it was his way of saying yes. “Have you ever killed a man before that?”  
  
No answer.  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but the ship’s AI’s voice rang out, summoning him to the bridge since they’d drop out of hyperspace soon. He left, but Sho’s lack of response remained with him. Jun wouldn’t call himself an experienced killer, but he knew he could do it if he had to.  
  
Sho didn’t look like he could. He had said it himself: he’d been a sickly child at birth. He must’ve not had any proper training since no one had believed he’d survive to adulthood.  
  
Jun dropped the ship out of hyperspace and pulled the brake, and Sho joined him in bridge. Past the windows, Jun could see a fleet of spaceships—the other half of the Denebian army. Jun opened their channel to all frequencies and nodded to Sho, who addressed the army.  
  
Jun didn’t listen; his eyes were fixed on Sho. Their fates were entwined now. There was no turning back from this—the fleet before them was proof of it. This was something they’d accomplished together, and Jun had to see this through its end.  
  
He’d stay until then. And if he’d make it with Sho still alive and victorious, he’d ask for his freedom. By that time, he would have earned it. Sho wasn’t the typical ruler, but he had to reward service in one way or another.  
  
Sho closed the channel by flipping the switch. “Take us back to Hamal.”  
  
Jun caught him by his forearm before he could leave. Sho’s eyes widened—he clearly wasn’t expecting to be stopped as he made his way out.  
  
“When all this is over,” Jun said, “when you’re emperor, set me free.”  
  
“So you can fight alongside your people when they come to invade my planet?” Sho asked.  
  
“No, I won’t fight against you when the time comes,” was all Jun could say. Anything more would reveal too much.  
  
After the civil war, he intended to return to Saiph to reclaim his throne. It was the only way he could stop the upcoming invasion. He had to have some supporters left still; he’d been an influential prince then.  
  
He’d find a way. One that wouldn’t result in death.  
  
Sho stared at him, and after a moment, he said, “While you are in my service, you are in no position to make any demands. Let go of my arm at once.”  
  
Jun did as he was told, and they spoke no more as they made the return journey.  
  
\--  
  
Their arrival at the outskirts of Hamal was welcomed by the entirety of Sho’s army, with Ohno, Aiba, and Keiko standing in the frontlines. They didn’t fit in the spaceport so they flanked outside, and one by one, the Denebian ships landed, unloading soldiers and forming lines.  
  
“You’ve brought more,” Ohno said to Sho when he and Jun were close enough.  
  
“Did you doubt that I could?” Sho asked lightly.  
  
“No. But you have more than what we were expecting,” Ohno said.  
  
Sho faced Keiko. “General Ishihara has some questions. Tell her everything she needs to know.”  
  
“Yes, Highness,” Keiko said, and she walked past Sho to meet Ishihara halfway.  
  
Sho turned back to Ohno, took a look at the man, and said, “Something has happened.”  
  
“If you wish, we can speak in private,” Ohno said after a momentary hesitation.  
  
“No,” Sho said. “You’ve assembled the army; something urgent has happened. Tell me at once.”  
  
Jun noticed the shift in Aiba’s expression, how Ohno had to take a measured breath before he began speaking.  
  
“Your mother has fallen ill,” Ohno said. Sho froze; Jun was close enough to him to be able to tell. “A transmission came directly from Sheratan, from the royal physician. She found out what you have here in the outskirts and it took a toll on her health.”  
  
“Lies,” Sho whispered, eyes wide. “Lies. They—”  
  
Poisoned her, he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.  
  
Ohno gave him a knowing look but didn’t comment. “The council acts as the planet’s governing body since your sister isn’t of age yet. They have joined forces with the challengers and gave us the order to surrender.”  
  
“No,” Jun said; he couldn’t help himself. How far would their desires to eliminate Sho would go? When they couldn’t kill him, they sought to harm his mother.  
  
Sho had his eyes shut now, his jaw set. His hands were balled to fists at his sides, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Jun could detect the rage in his tone.  
  
“Prepare the army,” Sho said evenly. “I will not surrender.”  
  
Ohno bowed his head, and to the army, he started giving orders. Aiba did the same just as Sho began walking past the lines, his strides wide and hurried. Jun followed him as he made his way inside the camp, inside his dome with the doors sliding shut behind them.  
  
“Leave,” Sho said without turning. He didn’t ask for the lights to be turned on, and they stood in darkness.  
  
“No,” Jun said, standing his ground. He wouldn’t. Not now.  
  
“Leave me alone,” Sho said, his voice cracking at the last syllable.  
  
“No.” Jun didn’t dare take a step forward, but he kept his eyes on Sho’s back. “Not when you’re like this.”  
  
Sho turned to him, expression fierce, his teeth gritted. He lunged at Jun and Jun caught his wrist midway, held him still. Sho’s other hand swung in an arc but Jun had been expecting it, and he stood there, holding Sho back.  
  
“Get out,” Sho hissed.  
  
“No,” Jun told him softly. “I’m staying.”  
  
I’m staying because you have no one else.  
  
Sho’s breaths came out heavy now, his chest heaving with each inhale. When Jun felt him loosen up, Jun let his wrists go, allowing them to drop to his sides.  
  
“Why do you stay even when I send you out?” Sho asked with eyes shut, but from his tone, Jun could tell he wasn’t looking for an answer. “I tried to get rid of you countless times, and you keep finding your way back.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jun said. It made Sho look at him, confusion marring his features. “I’m sorry they got to you like this.”  
  
Last time, he’d been able to prevent it. He’d saved Sho then, but Jun knew he couldn’t do anything now.  
  
“If they hurt her in any way, including my sister and my brother,” Sho said, “I’ll kill them.”  
  
“I know,” Jun told him.  
  
“You can’t stop me this time,” Sho said, eyes hard on his. “I won’t let you.”  
  
“I know,” Jun said again. “I won’t stop you.” At the shift in Sho’s expression, he continued, “I know how it feels to have someone you love harmed just to get to you. But first, calm down.”  
  
“Calm down,” Sho repeated sarcastically.  
  
“You can’t fight them if you’re like this,” Jun said. “You’re not thinking straight because you’re blinded by your anger. This is exactly what they want. If you’re overcome by your emotions, you’ll fail.”  
  
“I suppose you enjoy being the one who told me that as if I didn’t know,” Sho said.  
  
“I’m not the enemy right now,” Jun told him.  
  
“Then what would you have me do?” Sho asked, now sounding like a man pushed on the edge. He must’ve been feeling that way since Ohno had told him the truth; he was simply adept at hiding it in front of everyone.  
  
“Don’t fight them here,” Jun said. “This is your camp; you have more to lose. If they raided us, we lose supplies and a few men. Designate a place that’s far from here, one that’ll give us an advantage.”  
  
“I need Ohno and Aiba for this,” Sho admitted. “They know the territory more than I do.”  
  
“Ninomiya does too,” Jun said. “I’ve seen that man work. If you need to plan an ambush, include him. His navigation skills are unmatched in your camp; he can do reconnaissance if needed, as well as Daigo-san. Get this done at least before we engage. You told me once that your mind is your weapon. Right now, you’re the only one with enough forces to defeat those who want your throne. You can’t falter now.”  
  
“Call Ohno, Aiba, and Ninomiya in here,” Sho said.  
  
Jun nodded, moving to leave.  
  
“Wait,” Sho said, and Jun halted in his steps. “Just—in a moment. I require a moment.”  
  
“You’ll have it,” Jun said. “Do you need anything else?”  
  
“No,” Sho said.  
  
Jun gave another nod, and he heard Sho say softly, “Don’t go. I—I don’t want to be alone just yet.”  
  
The surprise only lasted for a few seconds.  
  
“I’m here,” Jun muttered, and Sho said nothing more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reference here I'm hoping y'all would catch. Those who know me will probably shake their heads and be like, "this trash can," and they won't be wrong.
> 
> Some sort of war happens in this part and a bit of violence also takes place since it involves the death of some OCs. Please be warned.

The official transmission from the palace herald came hours after, and Sho was charged with treason. The council had intercepted his transmissions to Denebia, and upon judging the content of each, they’d given Sho a choice: he could surrender and come to Sheratan willingly and await trial or he could fight and be destroyed.  
  
Sho’s response had been simple: “I’ll see you at Lucida Ventris.”  
  
Lucida Ventris was an old city in Hamal with a war history, located to the far north of the capital. That Sho had declared it as the meeting ground indicated that he still expected it to be an honorable fight despite Ohno’s stern warning.  
  
Later in Sho’s dome, they had gathered. Keiko was sent to discuss battle strategies with Ishihara and promised to report at once. Keiko’s departure left five men standing around Sho’s desk, a hologram of the terrain floating before them.  
  
Ohno stood across Sho, who had Aiba to his left and Jun to his right. Ninomiya stood on Ohno’s left, his expression serious for once.  
  
“Lucida Ventris has a fortress,” Sho said, indicating that particular spot in the hologram. “One of the very few properties I have left in my name since they began seizing it all after I said I’ll fight. They can’t take it because my mother was the one who gave it to me; they need her in order to reclaim it.”  
  
“If we can make it to the fortress, we can begin preparing for a siege,” Ohno said. “I had a feeling you’d use Lucida Ventris for this so I already had Aiba-chan prepare his best men.”  
  
Aiba nodded. “They’ll be ready to leave as soon as you give the order, Highness.”  
  
“Then consider it given,” Sho said. “I want that fortress. Within its walls, we have higher chances of defense.”  
  
Aiba nodded, lifting his communicator at once. He gave instructions, and Jun heard a noise of affirmation coming out of the device.  
  
Sho turned his gaze to Ninomiya and said, “I want you to work with Daigo-kun.”  
  
“Keiko-chan’s husband?” Ninomiya asked, smiling. “Sure. Where are we going?”  
  
“I want you to map the route our enemies will likely take. They will march from Sheratan to Lucida Ventris, but there are three routes to get there if you’re coming from the capital. Take a ship and do surveillance, and report back as soon as you can.”  
  
“All right,” Ninomiya said.  
  
“It should go without saying that you are not to be spotted or get caught,” Sho said.  
  
Ninomiya grinned. “You’re sending your best spy with me. We’ll manage, princeling.”  
  
“Then I will see you both in the fortress,” Sho said. “Dismissed.”  
  
Ninomiya left without a bow or another word, and Sho waited until they heard the doors swooshing shut upon Ninomiya’s exit.  
  
“Tell me what to do next, Captain,” Sho said to Ohno. “I am in need of your advice.”  
  
“If we succeed in claiming the fortress, they will flank us. Their ships will be flying overhead and fire upon us, so we better get the shields up before they even arrive. I expect that they’re going to get their reinforcements in the cities they’ll pass through in order to reach the designated battleground, so that gives us a bit of time. Two weeks from now, at least,” Ohno said in a calm voice. “You said the Denebian queen gave you her best?”  
  
“Her best and finest, she claimed,” Sho said.  
  
“Then in the field, put them between my men and Aiba-chan’s,” Ohno said. “Put them in line with the gates so our enemies cannot breach it.”  
  
Sho gave a nod as well as Aiba, who added, “Put us beside you, Sho-chan.”  
  
Jun blinked. He’d never heard Aiba address Sho in that manner before.  
  
“We’re sworn to protect you. Keiko-chan’s division is coming with us, and that means you should stay with us,” Aiba said.  
  
“I intend to fight,” Sho said. “In the front lines. They expect me not to, and that’s why I’ll be there.”  
  
“I know,” Aiba said. “We’ll be with you. But before anything else, we made the pledge to protect you. As we carry your banner and fight in your name, we’ll see that oath fulfilled.”  
  
“Aiba-chan’s right,” Ohno said. “You and Matsumoto should be on that side. They expect you to stand in line with the gates, and that will only make you an easy target.”  
  
“What will you have me do with the ships? I intend to use all ships that we have our disposal, with Otonoha acting as a decoy,” Sho said.  
  
A shift in Ohno and Aiba’s expressions, and Sho said, “I have to. If they fire upon her, that buys time for our men. And women.”  
  
“Then let me fly her,” Jun said. Ohno and Aiba turned to him, a frown on Ohno’s face. Sho didn’t look at him. “Let me fly her with Ninomiya.”  
  
“They already know you have a Saiphan bodyguard,” Aiba said. “That’s why they also charged you with conspiring with the enemies of the crown. If they find out he’s there, they’ll think you changed your mind and are willing to parley.”  
  
Sho shook his head. “They will fire upon her once they see her. Do you really think they’ll pass up the chance to destroy me now that they have the reasons they needed?” He turned his head in Jun’s direction and said, “No.”  
  
“I can fly her,” Jun insisted. “With Ninomiya by my side, we can evade their attacks. We’ll make it somehow!”  
  
“No,” Sho repeated. “I will not risk that.”  
  
“We’ll make it back,” Jun said. “I’ve taken you this far; I’m not letting you fight this war on your own.”  
  
Sho finally faced him. “We will discuss this later.” He looked at Ohno. “I intend to have the best pilots assume the best offense formation. Will they follow a squadron leader?”  
  
“They will if it’s me,” Ohno said. “For the preliminary attack, allow me to be airborne. Once we’ve disabled most of their ships, they will fight us on land.”  
  
“We will be ready for them,” Aiba said, mostly to Ohno.  
  
“Then destroy as many ships as you can,” Sho said. “We will await you on land.”  
  
Ohno nodded. “I will need to speak with the Denebian general regarding formations,” he said. “Aiba-chan, come. We can’t wait for Keiko-chan anymore. They need to know what we have in mind.” To Sho: “I will report back as soon as we have it finalized.”  
  
“Then we will march to Lucida Ventris in a week,” Sho said. “I’m not taking any chances; we need to be ahead of them every step of the way.”  
  
“Understood,” Ohno and Aiba said in unison, bowing their heads briefly.  
  
“Dismissed,” Sho said.  
  
Jun watched them go, and as soon as he and Sho were alone, he said, “Let me fly Otonoha.”  
  
“No,” was all Sho said. He powered up a couple more holograms, and Jun saw the layout of the fortress under Sho’s name.  
  
“If you send somebody else, you will lose a ship along with the man inside it,” Jun said. “Send me and Ninomiya. We can do it.”  
  
“No,” Sho said once more, and Jun was getting irritated.  
  
“Do you think I can’t? Or do you think we’ll run away the first chance we get? I gave you my word. I’m not leaving now and I’m not letting Ninomiya leave.”  
  
“It’s not that,” Sho said sharply.  
  
“Then what?” Jun demanded, grabbing Sho’s elbow to have the man look at him. “If you don’t trust me, say it. At least give me a reason why you’re being this stubborn even when you know I am proposing the right thing to do.”  
  
“I need you here,” Sho said through gritted teeth. It made Jun’s grip slacken; he hadn’t expected that. When Sho spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “I...I can’t do this alone.”  
  
Jun stared at him. Things were changing between them, and Jun only noticed it now. Denebia had ignited something between them, had started them on a precarious slope.  
  
And Jun was already descending.  
  
“I’ll make it back,” Jun said, his voice gentle now. “I will fight by your side in the field.”  
  
When Sho met his eyes, Jun, for the first time, knew what he was about to say.  
  
“Promise me,” Sho said, his lips hardly moving.  
  
Jun made a fist and put it over the badge resting on his heart. “I will return. I swear it.”  
  
Sho closed his eyes, and for a moment, he looked younger.  
  
“Then once we arrive at Lucida Ventris and Ninomiya has returned, take my ship,” Sho said, his features resigned, “and buy us some time.”  
  
Jun nodded, and Sho waved his hand.  
  
“Inform Ohno of this development,” Sho ordered.  
  
“As you wish,” Jun said, and he took his leave, but he could feel eyes on him as he walked away.  
  
\--  
  
When he returned to Sho’s dome after hours of listening to Ohno discuss battle tactics to him, it was dark and silent. Unlike the previous times, Jun no longer saw that as a cause of alarm, instead searching for Sho while keeping his footsteps light.  
  
He found Sho standing in front of his bookshelf, an old tome in his hands.  
  
When he made his presence known, Sho extended his hand that held the book.  
  
“This was my favorite as a child,” he said, and Jun stepped closer, taking the book from him. It was a compilation of myths and legends from the Old World, not focusing on a specific civilization. “That copy is something I lifted from the royal library and never returned.”  
  
“So you’re a book thief,” Jun said with a smile. He flipped through the pages, running his fingers over the list of contents.  
  
“The library was the only place in the palace where I felt safe when I was young,” Sho said. “I stayed away from the pads because everyone used them. The books were a safe haven; nobody liked something so physical in form anymore. With those, I could escape.”  
  
“Which one is your favorite story?” Jun asked.  
  
“The one about the sculptor and his greatest creation,” Sho said.  
  
Jun offered him the book once more. “Read it to me.”  
  
Sho gave him an incredulous look but took the book anyway. “You didn’t come here to hear me read. You came here to report.”  
  
“It can wait,” Jun assured him. “It was just tactics and formation and military strategies. Your captain is an amazing man.”  
  
“Would he be a better leader for this army?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun smiled and shook his head. “He’s exceptional, but he wouldn’t be able to convince the Denebians. You know this.”  
  
Sho flipped through the pages without replying, and when he stopped at a particular page, he asked, “Do you read often?”  
  
Jun could remember himself asking the same question to Sho before. “When I could, I did.”  
  
“What were Saiphan books like?” Sho asked, and he led the way to the bedroom. Jun moved to the corner of the room where his sleeping bag was and sat with legs crossed.  
  
“Political,” Jun said. “Scientific. If we had literature, it was mostly poetry about our history.”  
  
“About war, then,” Sho concluded.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“There is a legend widely known in Hamal that when the Old World was destroyed, its original inhabitants divided themselves into two large factions depending on what side they supported during the Great War. Then they spread across the galaxy, finding a new home for themselves. One half consisted of your people, the other half mine.”  
  
“I’ve heard of this,” Jun said. “They said that the side that consisted of the ancestors of my people had most of the ambition that originated from the Old World, including their thirst for glory.”  
  
Sho nodded. “And mine were those who adhere to traditions. The Hamali legend goes that, if those divided inhabitants were to be put together in one place once more, there will be a repeat of the Old World.”  
  
“You think that’s what will happen to your planet if Saiph makes its move after this.”  
  
“No,” Sho said, not quite looking at him. “I don’t believe in the legend.”  
  
Jun was surprised. “How come?”  
  
“Because here we are, two descendants from each half, trying to prove the legend otherwise. Two halves that make the whole, defying what might be history.” Sho let out a breath. “I’ll make you a promise: once I am emperor, I will set you free and give you a ship which will take you away from here. Regardless of where you choose to go, you will be given the freedom to live in any of the colonies under Hamal’s protection, and whatever oath you swore to me will be held fulfilled then.”  
  
The thought of freedom made Jun homesick. He’d see this through and he could leave. He could return to Saiph and put his plans in motion now that Sho had truly given him his word.  
  
Sho turned away from him and started flipping the pages of the book once more. “Lights at sixty percent.”  
  
“Read to me,” Jun said.  
  
“Is that a demand?”  
  
Boldly, Jun said, “Yes.”  
  
Sho regarded him, and Jun added, “It fascinates me.” He didn’t know why he felt like explaining. “The way you speak your language.”  
  
“You speak it as good as any Hamali here do,” Sho said.  
  
“True,” Jun agreed, “but our accents still differ in some parts.”  
  
It was far from what Jun had truly wanted to say. Please, he thought. This might be the last time.  
  
When all this was over, it’d be time for him to go. They both knew it.  
  
Sho kept his eyes on the opened tome on his lap, and when he spoke once more, Jun allowed himself a small smile.  
  
“A gifted sculptor from Cyprus, named Pygmalion, was a woman-hater.”  
  
\--  
  
They spoke of strategies the following morning. Sho had food brought to his dome, and he and Ohno discussed back and forth with Keiko representing General Ishihara since conversing about war with men didn’t sit well with her yet.  
  
Jun was in the corner of Sho’s study with Aiba, who had been tasked with orienting Jun about the terrain.  
  
“There is a ridge here,” Aiba said, pointing to a part of the hologram floating before them. “And you can lead your pursuers there. If you can maneuver Otonoha on her side, you can pass through this ridge without a problem. It will take a really precise calculation though.”  
  
“That’s what Ninomiya is for,” Jun said. “I don’t doubt his abilities for a second. Where does this ridge lead to?”  
  
“To the northern border leading to Sheratan,” Aiba said. “There’s a forest beyond as you see here. You have to be flying close to the ground though—it buys you a few seconds if they have to look for you once they get past the ridge.”  
  
“No problem,” Jun said. “We’ll just rely on thrusters.”  
  
“I’ve informed Nino of his next assignment, and he told me he was looking forward to working with you again,” Aiba said. “Is he your friend?”  
  
“Closest thing to it, I guess,” Jun said.  
  
“I already asked Nino to familiarize himself with the territory so it’ll be easier for the both of you,” Aiba said. Jun saw him glancing to where Sho, Ohno, and Keiko were, and said, “I’ve never seen him like this.”  
  
Jun followed Aiba’s line of sight, his eyes inevitably landing on Sho, on the serious expression that he had. “Driven, you mean?”  
  
“No. Confident,” Aiba clarified. “He’s always carried himself in such a way, but I’ve known him too long that sometimes, I know very well where to look. He’s never looked like this before, like he now knows that he’s not fighting this war alone.”  
  
“You’re very loyal to him,” Jun said. “You’ve never really shown me otherwise since I came here.”  
  
“This is my chance to repay everything he’s done for me,” Aiba said. “I won’t desert him now.” He turned off the hologram before showing Jun a new one. “This mountain range has an underground cave which you can use as your way back. I don’t think the pilots of the royal palace know of this. They never visited the borders of Lucida Ventris since the territory is under the Emperor Apparent’s name.”  
  
“If we take the ship there, it’ll lead us back to the fortress?” Jun asked.  
  
“It’s over three-thousand feet long, but it will lead straight—” Aiba tinkered with the holo and gave Jun another view, “—here, to the rear gates of the fortress. We’ll be setting up explosives inside the cave. In case you get followed through there, open fire to cause a rockslide.”  
  
“And bar another entrance to fortress shut,” Jun concluded. “Got it. I think we should still set off the explosives even if we’re not followed. Just to be sure.”  
  
Aiba stroked his chin as he thought about it. “I’ll take it to the captain. But for what it’s worth, I agree with that idea.”  
  
“Thank you,” Jun said. “Can they not fly overhead though? Past the mountain range?”  
  
“They can’t bring down the fortress’ shields that way. It has to be disabled from within,” Aiba explained. “Lucida Ventris has the most advanced shielding system in Hamal since it used to be warzone. They know they can’t penetrate that barrier no matter what they do, so they’re going to try to infiltrate the fortress undetected. Stopping that is no longer up to you; that’s my job. Just get their attention, trap some if not most of their ships, and go back to the field as soon as you can.”  
  
“Understood,” Jun said. “Ninomiya knows this plan?”  
  
“It was him who suggested the explosives when I spoke to him about it,” Aiba said. “The shields will be momentarily turned off as soon as we spot Otonoha. It will be a five-second window. You have to be inside the fortress by the end of that or else the ship will be destroyed upon collision with you in it.”  
  
“We’ll make it,” Jun said, despite doubt sprouting in his mind. He had to believe that they’d make it.  
  
He’d made a promise.  
  
Aiba merely nodded, and they moved on to the blueprints of the ship that the soldiers of the royal palace would likely use. They discussed the strengths and weaknesses of the different models, where to hit so that they’d be able to incapacitate the ships. Aiba, Jun realized, explained things in the easiest way possible. He didn’t prettify his words nor tried to conceal anything. He’d say some of the terminologies in Hamali, and if Jun was confused as to the meaning, he’d switch to the common tongue. He never gave Jun any cause to think that he was lying.  
  
Hours later, when that was done and it was only him and Sho left in the dome, Jun said, “Come.”  
  
Sho was still looking at holograms, and he was puzzled when he turned to Jun. “What?”  
  
Jun started gathering what he thought he’d need: phasers, daggers, two handheld staffs, and two sabers that were powered off. “Come with me to the clearing outside this camp.”  
  
“Are you ordering me?”  
  
“It’s a request.”  
  
Sho quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to understand how requests work if that’s how you phrase your words. You’re speaking to the Emperor Apparent.”  
  
Jun blinked. “Your Highness,” he added belatedly.  
  
Sho didn’t appear convinced, but he got to his feet anyway, switching off the holos and approaching Jun. “Why do you carry those things?”  
  
“I’m going to teach you how to fight,” Jun said, making his intentions clear.  
  
“I can fight,” Sho said. “Unless you’ve already forgotten what happened in Sheratan.”  
  
“You can defend yourself if necessary,” Jun said. “But you can’t fight. I’m here to do something about that while we still have time.”  
  
“And I suppose you think of yourself as an adequate teacher?”  
  
Jun gave him a knowing look. “Would you like for me to call Keiko-san instead?”  
  
Sho’s face went blank, and Jun smiled. “I thought so,” he said. “You’re afraid of her.”  
  
“She won’t hesitate to lay me off,” Sho said. Then he sighed and waved his hand. “Fine. If you’re volunteering your services, I suppose I must make the most of it. This is a rare occurrence in itself.”  
  
“Exactly,” Jun said, leading the way. “Follow me.”  
  
“We can’t be seen,” Sho said.  
  
There was Sho’s reputation to consider. “I know. Stay close to me.”  
  
It would be no problem if the Hamali would see their future emperor learning how to fight—they knew of his struggles in his youth. But the others, especially Ohno and Ishihara’s divisions—they couldn’t have known.  
  
Jun led Sho past the other domes as discreetly as he could, but fortunately for them the army was assembling near the spaceport. The part of the camp that led to the barren field was almost completely devoid of people.  
  
They reached the clearing where Jun had spent most of his time on the ground during his training with Kiko, and he gave Sho a choice. “Which one would you like to learn first?”  
  
“So I’m learning both,” Sho said. “I do have some skills with the saber; I’m not totally helpless.”  
  
“Then the saber first,” Jun said. He handed Sho one staff and took the other. “Try to block as many as you can.”  
  
“No warm up?” Sho asked, but he assumed a fighting stance.  
  
“This is the warm up,” Jun said.  
  
They exchanged blows but Jun soon knew that whatever skill Sho had, it wasn’t up to par to what he’d been trained with. Sho was a decent fighter, but he wasn’t Kiko. He was probably half of Kiko in terms of skill.  
  
Which meant that their fight was more or less evenly matched. Jun was panting and had worked up a good sweat by the time Sho made a misstep, and Jun managed to strike his side.  
  
“Sorry,” Jun said, but it was half-meant.  
  
“Did you use this as an excuse to get even for all those verbal battles you’ve lost?” Sho asked, a hand stroking his side. It made the edge of his tunic rise, and Jun noticed a silver gash on his flank.  
  
He was reaching out before he realized it. He held Sho by the wrist and raised the hem of the tunic higher, revealing the long scar. The skin was raised and uneven, running from the edge of his rib and disappearing under the waistband of his trousers.  
  
“What’s this?”  
  
“Nothing,” Sho hissed, pushing him back. Jun didn’t budge.  
  
“That’s a knife wound,” Jun said. “You told me they only came close twice: with the poisoned drink and that assassination attempt in the royal palace.”  
  
Sho looked away, and Jun grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “What are you not telling me?” he demanded.  
  
“Not even my mother knows of this scar,” Sho said. Jun could see how uncomfortable he was; how he disliked that Jun had seen. Jun wasn’t supposed to see. “Her sister gave it to me.”  
  
“Your aunt?!” Jun was shocked. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”  
  
“As if anyone would believe a seven-year old child battling pneumonia,” Sho said. “I was on the verge of dying at that time—they all would think it was mercy killing.”  
  
Jun felt anger rising in him, but it wasn’t directed at Sho. “Do you think she’s the one trying to dethrone your family?”  
  
“I haven’t found conclusive proof, but who else? She would have been Empress after my mother, had I not made it to thirty. Hamali laws state that when the heir hasn’t come of age, the closest family member to the reigning ruler will hold the throne until the rightful heir reaches thirty. That would’ve been her. It would be easy to eliminate my mother after she eliminates me: grief alone will kill my mother.”  
  
“Where else?” Jun said, not masking the rage in his voice. Sho had been a child.  
  
Saiph had its flaws, but they didn’t harm children in Saiph.  
  
“Do you expect me to present all my scars to you?” Sho asked, and he exerted enough force to finally push Jun off him. He straightened his tunic and let out a breath. “Why? So you can find which places they struck and which ones I survived? So you’ll know how extensively they tried in the past?”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “So I’ll know how many scars I should leave them with before I kill them for what they’ve done to you. You were just a boy.”  
  
Sho looked stunned but it was gone in a split-second. “I don’t require your protection.” He assumed his stance and said, “Or your coddling. You’re teaching me so I can defend myself. Then teach me, and stop treating me like I’m something fragile.”  
  
He moved, and Jun barely had enough time to block his strike. Sho seemed fueled by resentment and embarrassment combined—the former for what he’d endured, the latter because of what Jun had seen.  
  
Jun wasn’t meant to see. He knew that now, but it was too late.  
  
“Do you think I want your sympathy?” Sho asked, teeth gritted. Jun evaded a lunge aimed straight for his jugular. Jun settled for just ducking and sidestepping; he was no longer fighting back. If he raised his staff, it was to shield himself from an otherwise lethal blow.  
  
Sho was overcome with emotion now, fighting him like his life depended on it.  
  
“Fight,” Sho said, breath coming in gasps. “Fight me.”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “But hit as hard as you like. Pretend I’m them.”  
  
Jun allowed a strike that had been aiming for his cheek to land, and his head whipped to the side when it made impact.  
  
“Fight,” Sho said.  
  
“No,” Jun said once more. His cheek stung. It would bruise for days. “I’m not going to hurt you.”  
  
You’ve been hurt enough, he didn’t say.  
  
“Do you think that makes you a hero?” Sho asked. He was taunting Jun now, and Jun didn’t bite. Sho was saying these things because he was angry. “Do you think that undoes everything your people did to mine?”  
  
“It doesn’t change a thing,” Jun said, pivoting on his heel to avoid a blow that aimed for his chest. “But hit me as much as you like. If it’ll make you feel better.”  
  
Sho threw his staff to the side, giving Jun his back. He was gasping from exertion, his emotions right on the surface. He wasn’t unreadable now—all of him was right here for Jun to see.  
  
He’d never be as beautiful as he was now.  
  
“I’m not a monster,” Sho said, eyes shut. “I won’t fight someone who won’t hit back.”  
  
Jun discarded his own staff and bent down to pick up Sho’s. Sho stood there, full of tension like a bowstring plucked. Jun waited, and a gust of wind blew from the hill. He said nothing, and when the silence had lingered, he took Sho’s wrist.  
  
Sho’s pulse was flickering, and Jun placed the polished wood in his hand.  
  
“Like this,” he said, careful not to meet Sho’s eyes. He was afraid of what he might see in them. “Pretend it’s a saber and slash here.” He let the tip of the staff rest on the pulse point of his neck. “Then hit here.” He had the tip touch his temple. “And if you can, pierce through here.”  
  
He lay it over his heart, and he wondered if Sho could feel it beat wildly.  
  
“The fewer the slashes, the better. Saves your energy,” Jun explained. He guided the staff to his liver. “Hit hard here. Kiko-chan told me it buys you a few seconds, gives you an opening if you strike with enough force that your blow can incapacitate them.”  
  
“You’re teaching me how to kill my own people,” Sho said.  
  
“They’re coming to kill you,” Jun said. “If you can, don’t leave them with enough strength to strike back. There might come a time that you will have to hold your own in the field. This is your biggest battle yet.”  
  
When Sho didn’t respond, Jun lowered the staff and retrieved a phaser. He didn’t power it on, but he held it by the barrel to give Sho the grip.  
  
Sho took it, and Jun rested a hand under his elbow to straighten his arm.  
  
“Aim for the head,” he said, standing directly in the line of fire, resting the phaser’s tip on his forehead. “Don’t hesitate to pull the trigger; a second too late can get you killed.”  
  
“Assuming their phasers are set to kill and not to stun,” Sho said.  
  
“They’re not coming this far just to stun you,” Jun said. “You know this.” He moved to stand behind Sho, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Relax this. If it’s too stiff, you will miss. We don’t want you to miss. Not when they won’t while they’re aiming at you.” Jun pointed at a jagged piece of rock. “Try hitting that.”  
  
Sho powered on the phaser and pulled the trigger. He managed to graze the rock’s surface, leaving a dark imprint on otherwise unmarred stone.  
  
Sho’s eyes were fixed on the spot he’d made. “When I killed those men, did it change? How you think of me, I mean.”  
  
“You’re not a killer,” Jun said. “I still think the same.”  
  
“But I am. I killed those men. I see their faces sometimes. Mostly at night before I sleep.”  
  
“They made you a killer,” Jun said. “They forced you to dirty your hands. But what you’ve done doesn’t define you; it’s how you feel about what you did that does.”  
  
Sho wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the enemy that Jun’s tutors had made him believe. It was the system that Sho had lived in that was, the people in it that had been consumed by it that were.  
  
“Have you killed a man before?” Sho asked after a moment.  
  
“Yes. In a way.” He had to kill Crown Prince Jun in order to last this long. If he made it back to Saiph, he wouldn’t be the same.  
  
He’d never be the same.  
  
“How did it make you feel?”  
  
Jun’s eyes fluttered shut. “It’s nothing like the war poetry I grew up with. It didn’t make fire course through my veins, it didn’t make my blood sing. I felt...empty. Like I lost a part of who I am.”  
  
If he were still a prince, he wouldn’t have survived and come this far.  
  
“When I killed those men, I didn’t do it for me,” Sho said.  
  
“You were afraid they would target your siblings or your mother next,” Jun said.  
  
Sho didn’t respond, instead firing another shot at the same rock. The imprint left was smaller than the previous, and Sho made a tiny noise of frustration and fired again.  
  
This close, Jun could see the hairs on the back of Sho’s neck. Sho had spent his whole life protecting his family, letting himself be the target so his siblings would be spared from the horror brought by greed. He never told his mother about anything because the less she knew, the longer she remained alive.  
  
But who was protecting him? Jun looked down at the badge pinned on his chest—at the now familiar weight of it—and he decided then.  
  
“You’re not teaching me how to protect my left,” Sho remarked after most of the rock was marred with black.  
  
“No,” Jun said.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because that’s where I’ll be.” He’d stay for as long as Sho wanted him to. “Now aim for that patch of grass that’s a little on your right.”  
  
Sho did, and Jun kept readjusting his aim until it got close to perfect.  
  
The hours passed but he didn’t take notice, and when evening came, they made their way back.  
  
\--  
  
They would sneak out of the camp before daybreak for the next few days, meeting in the clearing and sparring after. Sho was improving, little by little, but Jun knew he’d never be battle-hardened.  
  
Not that Jun needed him to be—he only needed Sho to learn enough that he could hold his own on the field, at least before his royal guard had him surrounded. Keeping Sho was alive was top priority and that went without saying for every member of his army.  
  
They’d return to camp once the Hamali sun has begun blanketing half of the camp, the smooth surfaces of the domes shining under the light. The rest of the day would be spent refining strategies and checking equipment. Jun had done three armory inventories while Sho had spoken with Ohno and Aiba for hours in private.  
  
Nights were spent with Sho sharing what he deemed Jun ought to know. They’d strategize till the hours turn late and sleep later, when the entire camp had fallen silent.  
  
But one night Jun woke up from a terrible dream of reliving his last day in Saiph, and when he sat up to blink sleep from his eyes, he couldn’t see Sho on the bed.  
  
Panic immediately set in, and Jun grabbed his phasers and left the bedroom. He searched the entire dome and found no trace of Sho, and he proceeded to head out.  
  
The chronometer had told him it was hours past midnight and a few hours before dawn. If Sho would leave, where would he go?  
  
Jun made a mental note to ask for a tracking dot from Ohno as soon as he returned. He’d affix it into Sho’s belt and hopefully the man wouldn’t notice. Sho would be completely unreasonable to deal with by then, provided Jun located his whereabouts now.  
  
Sho wasn’t in the spaceport. The spaceport had shipyard workers getting their well-earned rest, their bodies draped over tables, some taking a nap on the benches. There were rows of sleeping bags, and Jun took one sweep with his eyes around the area before he moved on.  
  
Sho wasn’t in the storage domes either. Jun only checked the one closest to their dome since he already felt pressed for time. He was on his way to the artillery when he thought of the clearing close to the edge of the camp.  
  
“Matsumoto,” Ohno’s voice said from behind him, and he nearly pulled a muscle with how fast he’d whipped his neck. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Jun could ask him the same, but there was no time. “I need a speeder,” he said. “Where can I get one?”  
  
Ohno frowned for a moment. Then: “Is Sho-kun gone?”  
  
He was more perceptive than Jun had thought.  
  
“I know where he is,” Jun said. “Probably.”  
  
“I have a speeder,” Ohno said. “Come.”  
  
Ohno made no mention of where they were going, but the storage dome close to Ohno’s division was looming before Jun in a matter of seconds. Ohno tinkered with the console to be permitted entry, and when he spoke, it was after he’d given Jun the keys to his speeder as well the permission to use it with a tilt of his chin.  
  
“I recently got it refueled,” Ohno said.  
  
“Why are you awake at this hour?” Jun asked. “It doesn’t suit you.”  
  
Ohno looked like he needed more sleep, but his expression turned serious. “A transmission from Nino came as a warning. He intercepted a transmission from an outer channel while doing reconnaissance with Daigo-kun, and if Sho-kun’s missing, he probably received the same transmission Nino was talking about.”  
  
“What transmission?” Jun asked, beginning to feel dread.  
  
“Your planet has declared Hamal hostile,” Ohno said. “If we win this war, there’ll be another one to fight.”  
  
“Ninomiya could be wrong,” Jun said in disbelief. This was the worst timing. “He doesn’t speak my tongue.”  
  
And yet, Jun remembered.  
  
Speaking is different from understanding a little, Ninomiya had said.  
  
“But Daigo-kun does,” Ohno said. Jun had no rebuff for that anymore. Ohno walked towards the doors once more, operating the console to keep them open long enough for Jun. “If you know where he might be, bring him back.”  
  
“My planet declared war and you think he’ll come with me willingly?” Jun asked, though he found himself hoping for the same. Sho needed allies now, and if Jun could be the closest one he’s got, Jun wouldn’t be averse to it.  
  
“I think you can bring him back. You’ve already done it twice,” Ohno said. “Go.”  
  
Jun twisted the accelerator and sped away, the cool breeze of the night hitting his face. He wished he had goggles like Ohno, but he settled for squinting his eyes as he passed through different areas of the camp until he reached the uphill path that led to the clearing.  
  
Even from this distance, Jun could already see a saber powered on, could hear its faint buzz as it got swung from left to right and back again.  
  
Jun decelerated and parked the speeder beside a nearby tree, a few feet away from where Sho stood. He left the speeder on hover before climbing off it, his boots crushing grass as he approached Sho.  
  
“A speeder, really?” Sho asked. “Was my disappearance so urgent that you had to? Is that Satoshi-kun’s?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. “Yes, and yes.”  
  
Sho faced him, and despite the dark surrounding them, the moon permitted Jun to see the light sheen of sweat on Sho’s face. He’d been here for hours, training on his own. How long had he been doing that? Did he slip back inside the camp just before Jun woke, already having an estimate of Jun’s sleep cycle?  
  
“You’ve heard, then,” Sho concluded. He put the saber between them, and Jun frowned at it, confused. “Have you come to kill me?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know of the transmission. Were you sent here by the Saiphan princess to spy on me for months and to eliminate me when the opportunity presents itself?” Sho’s features were schooled to impassiveness, but Jun was no longer fooled by it. “Without me, Hamal doesn’t stand a chance.”  
  
“That’s not what I’m here for,” Jun said, annoyed now. “Do you think I’d ask for Ohno’s speeder if my plan was to murder you tonight?”  
  
“You could’ve simply stolen that speeder,” Sho said. “Well? Come and try then. I’ve been preparing myself for the past few days.”  
  
“I’m not here to kill you!” Jun hissed.  
  
“Then why are you here?!” Sho demanded, his voice rising in pitch as well.  
  
“I came to find you!”  
  
Sho scoffed. “Never let it be said that you can’t play the part, Matsumoto. You did so well. I almost believed it.”  
  
Jun stepped forward and he didn’t miss how Sho’s grip on the saber tightened. He took another step until he could feel the heat emitted by the tip of the weapon, and said, “I taught you where to hit. Where it hurts, where it can kill. If you think I was sent here to kill you, strike.”  
  
Then in a moment of what could perhaps constitute as madness, Jun pulled his phaser free from its holster and tossed it to the ground.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
Breathing came easy. If Sho struck, he had nothing to lose. A man who had nothing had nothing to lose. He’d already lost everything.  
  
He heard the saber being turned off, and he opened his eyes to Sho’s back to him.  
  
“Why,” Sho said weakly, voice almost a whisper, “do you always come whenever I need you? Even when I don’t ask for it. Even when I don’t want it anymore. You always find me.”  
  
Jun had no response for that; he couldn’t explain it either. In his gut, he’d known Sho couldn’t have fled from the camp on his own and done something unpredictable and likely stupid. After only a few failed searches, he’d known where to go, what he’d likely find.  
  
He didn’t need the tracking dot. He’d found Sho in the middle of a city that he hadn’t been to before.  
  
Jun could find him anywhere.  
  
“You’re not alone anymore,” was all he said. The wind whistled against his ears and his skin turned to gooseflesh, but he remained where he was, standing in the middle of a barren field, his only weapon lying discarded at his feet.  
  
“After I fight my own planet, I have to defend it,” Sho said. “I will lose men in the upcoming war. Men that I know. Some women I barely knew.”  
  
Jun bent down to pick up the phaser, tucking it inside its holster once more.  
  
“You won’t lose me,” Jun told him. He didn’t know if that was enough. He had nothing else to offer but himself.  
  
Sho looked over his shoulder, and in the darkness surrounding them, Jun couldn’t make out his expression.  
  
“Yes I will,” Sho said, and Jun detected an edge to his voice. “I will once I’m emperor.”  
  
It was the truth. Jun couldn’t explain the sudden constriction he felt in his chest—he knew what he had to do once Sho was on the throne. When Sho assumed that position, someone like Jun couldn’t stay by his side anymore.  
  
The flicker of hurt that he sensed was a surprise.  
  
“But until then,” Jun said, “I’ll be here.”  
  
The clouds obscuring half of the moon shifted, and they were soon bathed in moonlight. It left shadows on Sho’s face, and Jun finally saw the vulnerability in Sho’s expression.  
  
He could offer no comfort. At least not in the usual ways.  
  
“Come with me,” he said.  
  
“Back to camp?” Sho asked. He didn’t seem like he’d object.  
  
“No. Not yet.” They still had time before dawn broke. Jun gestured to the speeder. “Tell me about this planet. I’ve been here for months and there’s still much I don’t know.”  
  
If I could take you away from here, Jun thought, I would. If, for a moment, you can forget what you have to face, I’d be grateful.  
  
Sho looked at the speeder and said, “All right.”  
  
Jun let Sho gather his things as he climbed on the speeder, and he brought it closer to where Sho stood. Sho now had the saber strapped to his belt, and Jun offered him his hand.  
  
“I still smell like sweat and exertion,” Sho said with a scrunch of his nose.  
  
Jun shrugged his shoulders. “I’m used to it. Thanks to the past few days.”  
  
“You can’t complain once I climb aboard,” Sho said, taking his hand.  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jun said lightly, pulling him up.  
  
There was a slight descent as the speeder bore the weights of two men, and Jun twisted the accelerator in preparation.  
  
“Hold on to me,” he said.  
  
Sho didn’t. He remained motionless behind Jun, and when Jun glanced over his shoulder, he saw Sho quirking an eyebrow. Even at night, he couldn’t mistake that. “Do you even know where to go?”  
  
“No,” Jun admitted. “But that’s what you’re here for.”  
  
“We go east then,” Sho said, lifting a hand to point Jun to the right direction. “Past those cliffs, and close to the beach. There is an old mining station a hundred feet from there.”  
  
Then Jun felt arms slipping around his waist, Sho’s hands clasping together in the middle, and he let the engine roar to life.  
  
\--  
  
They returned before the sun reached the height that’d cover the entire camp in its shine. Ohno was waiting for them, standing at the entrance of their dome as Jun pulled the speeder to a stop.  
  
“Go ask the shipyard for fuel,” Sho said as he climbed off. “Sorry, Satoshi-kun. We may have used a little more than we should have.”  
  
“No matter,” Ohno said.  
  
“Come. Let’s talk inside,” Sho said, and they left.  
  
Jun took the speeder to the shipyard, intending to find Kazama, but instead found Yoko stretching at its entryway. Yoko almost immediately froze upon the sight of him.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Yoko demanded, expression skeptical.  
  
“I didn’t come here looking for a fight,” Jun said immediately. “Your emperor asked me to refuel this speeder. Is Kazama in?”  
  
Yoko clucked his tongue but spun on his heel and said, “I handle the fuels now. Come take that speeder inside.”  
  
Jun powered off the speeder and climbed off it, guiding it inside. He saw the surroundings he’d seen before, except that most ships were in the spaceport now. There were few remodels going on, but the shipyard was no longer a parking ground for spacecrafts. It looked like a repair station with all the discarded parts and unfinished platings.  
  
“Here,” Yoko said, gesturing to a stack of fuel cells, and behind him, Jun could see rows upon rows of it. Ikuta had returned successful then. “Do you know how to install those?”  
  
“Not as well as you do,” Jun said, grabbing as many as he needed.  
  
“You’re a pain,” Yoko said, but he took one cell and started helping Jun with the refuel.  
  
Jun was a little wary; the last time he’d worked together with Yoko, it had ended in an altercation.  
  
He chose to keep silent as he worked. He was slower in affixing a cell in its proper place, and Yoko was doing most of the work.  
  
“I heard that you saved his life,” Yoko said, not quite looking at him.  
  
“I did,” Jun said.  
  
“Didn’t mean what I said then,” Yoko mumbled, but Jun caught it. “You just pissed me off that time.”  
  
“I think I pissed off a lot of people back then,” Jun acknowledged. “Your emperor included.”  
  
“They said you’re acting as a decoy,” Yoko said. It was his way of asking, perhaps.  
  
“I am.”  
  
“Bring back that ship.”  
  
Jun smiled and nodded. “I intend to.”  
  
“If she takes fire, bring her back still.” Yoko didn’t glance at him, eyes on the fuel cell he was attaching to the speeder. “I’ll fix her along with the others.”  
  
“Got it,” Jun said. He attached the last cell and got to his feet. “Thank you.”  
  
Yoko offered his hand, and when Jun stared at it, he rolled his eyes. “This is the only time.”  
  
Jun smiled and took it, and he let bygones be bygones.  
  
\--  
  
They left the outskirts by the end of that week, after Ninomiya and Daigo’s transmission came and confirmed that the army from Sheratan had begun its march. Jun took Otonoha and flew her with Keiko as his navigator, and they were flanked by Ohno and Aiba’s ships. As a precaution, they had Sho ride with Ohno, which Sho had only agreed to do after Keiko had come to tell him off.  
  
Lucida Ventris, unlike the outskirts, had a bit of overgrowth. Untrimmed grass lined its fields, adding a rather dull shade of green when viewed from above. The fortress was constructed with neutronium and polished Hamali ore, standing thousands of feet tall, and its gates opened once their fleet had made itself known through the communication channel.  
  
Jun parked Otonoha close to the exit; he and Ninomiya would have to use it again in a matter of days. He found Sho in the midst of a hundred men and women standing at the inner ward of the keep and stood by his side.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Sho said, but he didn’t seem angry. He looked out, his eyes scanning faces, perhaps committing them to memory.  
  
“Parking problems,” Jun said. He watched as the men and women gathered themselves into lines, and he turned when he heard the doors of the keep swoosh open, revealing a man who looked older and stood taller than Jun.  
  
“Sho-kun,” he said with an air of familiarity. “It’s been years. Your earring is gone and your face has gotten rounder.”  
  
“And you look thinner. Do you even eat?” Sho asked, but there was a smile on his face.  
  
“I will since you’ve arrived,” the man said.  
  
“Matsumoto, this is Iseya, the guardian of the keep. He’s been acting as its lord in my absence. Iseya-kun, my bodyguard.”  
  
“The Saiphan I’ve been hearing so much about,” Iseya said. “You’re the first Saiphan to step foot inside this keep. I hope you’re the last.”  
  
“I hope so too,” Jun said.  
  
“Show me what you’ve gathered for the past week,” Sho said to Iseya, who nodded and led the way. Sho turned to Ohno and said, “Tonight, we rest. Have the kitchens prepare food for every man and woman, and have your men start assembling tents. We can’t fit in the keep.”  
  
“Understood,” Ohno said, and he began giving out orders.  
  
Jun followed Sho and Iseya, walking at a pace behind them. Inside the keep, the halls were sparsely decorated since it hardly had visitors, and he and Sho were led to a hall that had holograms powered on.  
  
Iseya began to speak. “The army from Sheratan consists of the Empress’ Guard—”  
  
“Former Empress’ Guard,” Sho corrected. “They’re traitors now.”  
  
Iseya tilted his head in acceptance and continued, “—as well as the armies of the challengers to the throne. That’s roughly twelve thousand. Two thousand more than what you have.”  
  
“But I have this fortress,” Sho said. “How many ships?”  
  
“Half of their number,” Iseya reported.  
  
Sho gave Jun a look, and Jun understood what it meant: he had to reduce that number further.  
  
He only nodded, and Sho faced Iseya once more. “What else?”  
  
“You’ve been declared a public enemy in Hamal, but the cities are divided. Some in support of the crown, some supporting your rightful claim to it.”  
  
“If I win, I can unify these cities,” Sho said. “Any news about my mother?”  
  
Jun could detect from Sho’s voice that it had been the first question Sho had wanted to ask.  
  
“Your sister sent an encrypted transmission here, telling me to decrypt it before you arrive here. She knew this is where you’d go. Your mother lives still.”  
  
Sho exhaled and told Jun, “Find a servant and have my quarters prepared.”  
  
Jun knew it was Sho’s way of dismissing him, and this time, he was agreeable. Iseya looked like he’d known Sho for years.  
  
“They were already prepared, Sho-kun,” Iseya said.  
  
“For one man,” Sho told him. “Where did you expect my bodyguard to sleep?”  
  
Iseya smiled. “In a tent outside? No one’s going to try to kill you here.”  
  
“Regardless,” Sho said stubbornly. To Jun: “Go.”  
  
Jun departed, and he managed to locate one servant who trembled upon seeing him. He must’ve been the first Saiphan she’d seen in her life. He had to reassure her that he wouldn’t harm her and pointed to his badge before giving her Sho’s orders. She nodded repeatedly and left with haste, and Jun had to ask another servant to take him to Sho’s quarters so he could inspect it.  
  
The servants kept their heads down as they shuffled about, but they allowed Jun to do his inspections without interruptions. A mattress was placed at the foot of the bed for Jun, and he noted that the room wasn’t so different from Denebia’s. There were security cameras at the receiving room adjacent to the bedroom, as well as in the corridor that led to the chamber.  
  
By nightfall, Ninomiya and Daigo returned just in time for dinner. Sho ordered for all the food to be brought outside, for everybody to mingle with their comrades in arms. Sho dined with the leaders of his army, including General Ishihara, the five of them gathered around the table closest to the keep. To his far right, Jun saw Ninomiya making the men from Aiba’s sentry laugh, as well as those who came from Ohno’s division. When Ninomiya approached him, he held his hand out.  
  
“May I borrow my cards?” Ninomiya asked, and he’d stressed out the ‘my’. “Got some people I need to impress.”  
  
Jun pulled the deck from trousers and followed Ninomiya to where he’d gathered a couple of men and Denebian women. He watched as Ninomiya made cards disappear and reappear, each trick different for each person. He never seemed to run out of ideas.  
  
When it was late and most people had returned to their tents, Ninomiya offered to play one round of cards with him. The same one they’d played long ago, and Jun accepted. He’d gotten better; he’d used nearly the entirety of their trip to Denebia as practice.  
  
Ninomiya dealt and they were into the game when he finally opened his mouth to speak.  
  
“They’ll be setting up explosives tomorrow in the cave,” he told Jun. “That’ll take about a day, perhaps. We leave the day after. I’ve already scouted the terrain and I know where to go and to hide, so it should be easy provided you can fly us steadily.”  
  
“Are you belittling my skills now?” Jun asked with a small smile.  
  
“Come now, I only belittle you when there are cards between us,” Ninomiya said with a chuckle. “How’s the princeling?”  
  
Jun was confused. “What do you mean ‘how’?”  
  
“There are whispers in this camp. Some of his men wonder how he’s taking it since his mother has fallen ill and he has a war to fight. Some say they don’t want to be in his shoes despite his wealth and status.” Ninomiya looked at him, past the cards that he held in his small hands. “How is he really?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Jun said. “I never saw him break.”  
  
It was a lie—he did see. But there were things that had been only for him.  
  
Ninomiya hummed, and he was down to three cards while Jun still had a few more. “What are you going to do after this?”  
  
“After what?”  
  
“Whether we win or lose, I don’t think you’ll die. You survived too long to not let that happen. What are your plans after this?”  
  
Jun couldn’t lie to him, not again after doing it earlier. “I’ll go home.”  
  
“And where is that?” Ninomiya asked.  
  
Past Ninomiya’s shoulders, he could see Sho, still seated in the table he shared with Ohno and the others. Sho had ordered for fires to be lit out of tradition, and with the flames reflected in his eyes, Jun could look nowhere else.  
  
“Fifty-seven light years away,” Jun muttered. The distance felt too far.  
  
“Are you going to help your planet invade his?” Ninomiya asked. There was a knowing look in his eyes, like he knew exactly where Jun was looking—had been looking since.  
  
“I’m going to stop my planet from invading his,” Jun said, determined. “I don’t know how yet. But I will.”  
  
“Does he know?” Ninomiya asked, eyes on his now.  
  
“Yes. I gave him my word that I’ll stop it. I don’t think he believed me though.”  
  
Ninomiya shook his head. “Not that.” Jun blinked in confusion when he smiled. “He doesn’t. You should consider letting him know before you go. In case you’ll never see him again.”  
  
“There’s nothing to say,” Jun said. His mind was no longer in the game, and he folded and admitted defeat before he could make a fool of himself further.  
  
Ninomiya didn’t utter a word more, but Jun thought he no longer had to. He already knew enough.  
  
\--  
  
He and Ninomiya left the fortress two days later, and the only words Sho had said to him before he headed out to the courtyard to climb onboard Otonoha were “You made me a promise.”  
  
“And I intend to keep it,” Jun had said.  
  
They cloaked the ship as soon as they detected the armada, still thousands of miles away from Lucida Ventris. Ninomiya mapped out a route that would allow them to zigzag and dash through the center of the fleet and back out, and he gave Jun an almost pleased look.  
  
“She’s all yours, Matsumoto,” he said.  
  
“Jun.”  
  
Ninomiya blinked, but he already had a smile creeping on his face as he understood. “Then call me Nino, Jun-kun. Let’s go break their formations.”  
  
It wasn’t easy. They disabled the cloaking and accepted the hail, and Nino snorted when it asked for their surrender. Whoever spoke was directly addressing Sho.  
  
“At least they believe it,” Nino muttered, too quiet for the frequencies to pick up. Then to the communications device: “We decline, but thank you for offering.”  
  
His sudden politeness made Jun laugh, some of his tension disappearing. He felt calmer and he held the joystick with stable hands, maneuvering the ship according to Nino’s calculations.  
  
“Leave the guns to me,” Nino said as soon as the fleet started firing upon them, and Jun focused on evasive maneuvers while sticking to their path. He let Nino return fire, actually bringing down a couple of ships in the process.  
  
He kept his hands tight on the joystick, his eyes on the view before them. He couldn’t falter now. He had to make it through the ridge, through the forest, through the cave, and back.  
  
He had to return. He’d promised.  
  
“Their army on land is way ahead of their ships,” Jun noted.  
  
“Captain had the men ready when we were leaving,” Nino said. “But we have to warn them.”  
  
Jun addressed Otonoha’s AI and ordered her to draft a recorded transmission and have it sent straight to Sho’s communicator. “They’ll make contact in a matter of hours. You have to enable defenses now.”  
  
He ended the recording and had it sent, just as they sustained a blow in their hull that shook the ship.  
  
“Shields at sixty-eight percent,” Nino said. “What the fuck was that that hit us?”  
  
“I don’t know, but we can’t let it hit us again,” Jun said. He pulled the parking brake to do a sharp turn, and ahead, he saw the ridge that Aiba had mentioned. “Hold on tight.”  
  
“Where do you think my hands are, Jun-kun?”  
  
Jun no longer had the chance to comment on that. He had to tilt the ship on its side, and they heard a couple of explosions behind them. They’d lost three pursuers, but the rest were still there, passing through the ridge easily since their spacecrafts were smaller in size.  
  
“Fly lower,” Nino said.  
  
There were jagged spikes of rocks beneath them, and Jun said, “Are you mad? We’ll be gutted.”  
  
“No we won’t. Do it. We didn’t lose as much as we intended.”  
  
To the ship’s AI, Jun barked, “Calculate velocity upon descent with ten percent room for error.”  
  
The AI gave the results in a monotonous voice, and Jun pulled the lever of the accelerator towards him, the ship descending in a wide arc.  
  
“Pull up when I say so,” Nino said. His face didn’t hide the thrill he felt.  
  
“Feels like old days? You’re so used to being chased around,” Jun remarked.  
  
“Lifetime of experience, Jun-kun. Even before I became a wanted swindler, I was popular with the girls at Alnitak.” Then in a serious voice: “Pull up now! Now!”  
  
Jun did, and they heard a few crashes from where some of the ships had made impact with the rocks from below. They took another hit from a plasma cannon, and their shields were down to fifty percent.  
  
“Full speed,” Jun said to the ship’s AI, and his back hit the chair when they had the momentum. To Nino: “Fire at will.”  
  
Nino did, taking down a couple more ships. The inbuilt map of Otonoha indicated that they would almost reach the cave, and the console to Jun’s right told him that they had at least sixty more ships in pursuit.  
  
“Why are these guys so good at dodging?” Nino asked in irritation. “I’m getting really pissed here.”  
  
In his periphery, Jun caught Nino swapping systems—his navigation console was now on his right and the defensive maneuvers now on his left. He opened fire again, and Jun noticed that the ships behind them started to decrease in number.  
  
“Should’ve used the left hand earlier,” Jun said, smiling. They had a chance. They were soaring through the woods Jun had seen in the hologram, which meant that they were almost at the cave.  
  
“The left hand is reserved for times like this,” Nino told him. “Bet they weren’t expecting that.”  
  
The underground cave’s entrance was dark and unwelcoming, but Jun had no time to admire it. He lowered the ship according to their calculations, wincing when he heard the stalactites scrape against their plating, causing a brief turbulence.  
  
“Steady,” Nino said, and he opened fire again, causing small rockslides that only slowed down their pursuers. “We have to make it.”  
  
“We will make it,” Jun told him. On the other side was the fortress, the army—Sho.  
  
Sho, who was waiting for him.  
  
They took another hit that sent the ship staggering, their shields down to eighteen percent. Whatever hit them was powerful; they couldn’t survive another blow like that.  
  
Jun diverted all power to the ship’s thrusters, no longer caring if he left scratches on her surface. He could see the end of the tunnel, and Otonoha detected the explosives placed on the sides of the exit.  
  
“Don’t miss,” Jun said to Nino. If Nino missed, they’d be trapped in here since Ohno and the others would be the ones who’d trigger the explosion. He couldn’t afford to let that happen, but it was out of his hands now.  
  
“Don’t insult me,” Nino said, and Jun held his breath as Nino directed the ship’s guns to the switches and fired in succession, triggering a chain reaction.  
  
For a moment, they were blanketed in a sea of fire. Jun heard nothing but the explosives going off one-by-one, and he pushed the accelerator to maximum to fly through it. Their shields were down and the ship was taking heavy damage, its emergency lights now powered on.  
  
The safety protocols of the ship were activated, and for a moment, Jun thought it was all over.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he saw the walls of the fortress. The ship was unstable but she stayed afloat, and just as the five-second window was over, they made it inside the fortress’ shields.  
  
They’d done it. Otonoha was rapidly losing power, but they’d done it.  
  
He heard a chuckle to his side and saw Nino’s shoulders shaking as he laughed tiredly.  
  
“Let’s not do that again,” Nino said.  
  
“Agreed,” Jun said. He accepted the request for communication and registered Iseya’s voice on the other line.  
  
“Nicely done,” came the hoarse croak laced with static. “Is anybody hurt?”  
  
“No,” Jun said, albeit still out of breath. “Just overwhelmed.”  
  
A laugh. “Head down to the courtyard. We’re mobilizing the army.”  
  
The channel closed, and Jun heard Nino sigh.  
  
“I can’t believe we still have to fight after this. How many hours do we have?”  
  
“Three, give or take,” Jun said. “Let’s go.” He unfastened his seatbelt and didn’t wait for Nino, striding towards the hatch and opening it. He had to jump since Otonoha hadn’t exactly touched the ground, and he was grateful that he wore knee pads.  
  
Sho’s army was making its way out now, past the opened gates. The Denebians were the last to leave the courtyard, and Jun’s eyes searched frantically for one person as he accepted weapons handed to him by one of Ohno’s men.  
  
He ran past the soldiers to make it closer to the gate, and he finally caught sight of thick brown hair standing beside a man with a red cape, his cybernetic arm catching light.  
  
Sho saw him too, his expression a bit surprised despite having witnessed Otonoha enter the fortress before the shields went up. He wore armor: a neutronium plate was wrapped around his torso, but he was dressed like any other soldier. There would be no distinction on the battlefield.  
  
And yet, in a sea of people clad in the same manner, Jun had no trouble locating him.  
  
“You’ve returned,” Sho said once Jun stood before him once more.  
  
“I told you I would,” Jun said. “We’ve managed to lessen the number of their ships. Your pilots should be able to handle the rest.”  
  
“They’re airborne now,” Ohno said, slipping his goggles over his eyes. “And I should be, too.” He looked at Jun. “Stay by his side.”  
  
There was nowhere else Jun would rather be.  
  
He nodded, and Ohno left with a sweep of his red cape. Jun took the spot Ohno had vacated, where he could see how the army marched. They moved in straight, neat lines, and when he checked the watchtowers, he saw their cannons being manned by a combination of Aiba and Ohno’s men.  
  
“Where is Ninomiya?” Sho asked.  
  
“He was just behind me when I got off the ship,” Jun said. From what he could recall, Aiba had assigned Nino to fly a spacecraft. “Think he’s off to the skies now since Ohno’s out there already.”  
  
“Are you hurt anywhere?” Sho suddenly asked. There was a hint of worry in his tone. “Okada-kun’s got the infirmary ready, there are—”  
  
“I’m fine,” Jun said. The adrenaline still pulsed within him. “Iseya told you the same.”  
  
“Hearing is not the same as seeing,” Sho said, and Jun tried not to smile at the reality that Sho had taken a good look at him when he’d been doing the same. “You got them.”  
  
“We did,” Jun affirmed. “Nino is an excellent marksman.”  
  
“He’s a man of many talents,” Sho acknowledged. “What did it look like?”  
  
“I would assume those were the finest ships the royal army has to offer,” Jun reported. “We’ve had the same models in Saiph a few years back, but most of them were sold to different planets after we upgraded our military provisions. Comparing them to the ships you have at your disposal, you have a chance. If the men piloting those ships are half as good as Nino, they can bring them down.”  
  
“You mean you,” Sho said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“If Satoshi-kun’s pilots are half as good as you, then we have a chance.”  
  
Jun had never had his skills acknowledged outright by Sho, and he didn’t know what to say.  
  
“And the army on land?” Sho asked after a moment.  
  
“We didn’t see them. They used one or both of the alternate routes,” Jun said. “They’re covering ground as we speak, and Nino and I estimated it to be mere hours before they make it here.”  
  
“Then we are ready for them,” Sho said with conviction. He pulled his saber free from his belt, its metal handle held tight in his hand. He didn’t power it on, but Jun knew he would soon. “Come. We must go where the others are.”  
  
“Wait,” Jun said, his hand encircling Sho’s elbow.  
  
Sho appeared stunned but he blinked back the expression quickly. He took a look at Jun and his mouth parted open, only for him to shut it again.  
  
“I—” Jun tried, but Sho shook his head.  
  
“When this is over,” Sho told him. “When there’s no war between us.”  
  
“That will never happen,” Jun found himself saying. After this, there was Saiph to worry about.  
  
Jun feared there would never be another time.  
  
The look on Sho’s face softened. “Then when this war is over, come find me again. That shouldn’t be impossible for you; you always know where to go.”  
  
“All right,” Jun acquiesced, his grip on Sho slackening even if something inside him screamed not to.  
  
“Come,” Sho said, moving to leave.  
  
Like always, Jun followed.  
  
\--  
  
They arrived just as the sun reached its peak. The royal army of Hamal marched into neat lines a thousand paces away from theirs, and on Sho’s signal, the three of them—Sho, him, and Keiko—moved their speeders to meet the councilman that waited for them at the middle of the field.  
  
Judging from his looks, he appeared to be Inamine. Jun’s father had him learn all the names and characteristics of each Hamali council member, just in case. From what Jun could recall, Inamine was stubborn and hotheaded, a war veteran.  
  
“Councilman,” Sho said coolly, climbing off his speeder. Jun and Keiko did the same, standing by his sides. “I didn’t think you’d come all the way here. I’d welcome you with a feast, but you don’t seem eager to share a meal with me.”  
  
“I see you’ve claimed the fortress of Lucida Ventris for yourself,” Inamine said. He stood taller than all of them, a hulking figure with a stern, hard expression. He had a scar that bisected the corner of his lips.  
  
“There’s nothing to claim,” Sho said. “Lucida Ventris is mine by birthright. As the lord of this city and the lands surrounding it, I ask that you take your army and leave.”  
  
“You would ask me to surrender?” Inamine laughed mockingly, and Jun caught the hardening of Keiko’s expression. “You’ve never fought in a war before. You can barely lift a saber!”  
  
“This is your last chance,” Sho said, not losing his temper. It occurred to Jun that Sho had grown up with this kind of treatment, interacting with people who had no faith in his abilities. How many of them had told him he’d be unfit to rule? “Go before you lose face, before your army’s reputation deteriorates further.”  
  
“Further?” Inamine was frowning now, and he appeared menacing. The other men beside him bore the same expression—the leaders of the army that challenged the Empress’ rule.  
  
Sho inclined his head in mock thought. “You’re sworn to protect my mother from bodily harm and almost a month ago, you failed. Everyone in Hamal knows it. When I become emperor, I will have no need for incompetent men like you.”  
  
“You will never be emperor,” Inamine said with gritted teeth. He spat on the ground at Sho’s feet and shouted to the rest of his men: “They refuse our offer to parley! Prepare for battle!”  
  
They heard a chorus of men’s war cries, of the safety feature of phasers being switched off. Jun looked out and saw bloodthirsty soldiers who might not even know that they were fighting for the wrong side.  
  
“So be it,” Sho said. “You are charged with treason against the crown and will be branded oathbreaker for failing to hold the throne in good will. You will receive no pardon should you survive.”  
  
Inamine sneered at Sho and made his way back to his men. “You will never win. You’ve never won in your life.”  
  
Sho climbed on his speeder and said to Keiko, “Tell Ohno that now’s the time.”  
  
Keiko gave him a look of surprise.  
  
“Have you gone mad?” Jun asked out of the corner of his mouth. “We’re still in the field. At least wait until we’re back in the lines.”  
  
“No. Now, Keiko-chan. He will understand,” Sho said. “We go back.”  
  
Keiko spoke to her communicator for a few seconds and moved her speeder at the same time as Sho drove his, Jun a few beats late. They sped back to where Aiba and his men were just as Jun heard blasts and screams and the soaring of spacecrafts overhead.  
  
The explosions that colored the sky as soon as Ohno led the charge looked like fireworks. Ohno and the rest of his pilots were firing at spacecrafts and at the army on land alike, and Jun saw a missile from a massive cannon take down one of their ships.  
  
When Sho gave the signal, they made the charge on land. Jun leaned forward as he sped through lines upon lines, firing upon anyone who bore colors other than Sho’s striking red. Ahead, he saw Keiko flanking Sho’s side, her speeder colliding with another, and she was sent to ground.  
  
Jun stopped thinking. He moved as his body dictated, allowed his instinct to take over. When his speeder took fire and he had to jump off it, he drew out his phasers and began shooting. Straighten your arm, don’t close one eye, relax your shoulder. Keiko’s words had resonated in him, and with each shot he fired, he saw a man fall.  
  
He saw Sho then, fighting ahead, surrounded by Denebian and Hamali soldiers. There was a bleeding gash on his left cheek as he brought down a man who came too close with a swing of his saber. Jun made his way to Sho and shot at whoever tried to stop him.  
  
Once he reached Sho’s side, he demanded, “Who cut you?”  
  
“No matter; I got him,” was Sho’s response.  
  
“Stay close to me,” Jun said, and he began shooting at whoever wanted to make their way to Sho. In his periphery, he saw a flurry of fluid movements, and he couldn’t help smiling when he realized it was Kiko and her double-edged saber, bringing down whoever came too close to her with a storm of slashes.  
  
Her saber was dancing. Soldiers fell like nothing as she moved, and Jun saw how their men gathered more courage when they saw her. The Denebians were letting out cries that kept them moving onward, and Jun saw a couple of royal soldiers flying. He spotted a red cybernetic arm as the cause, and he pulled out his saber to power it on, hacking and slashing at the men charging at them.  
  
“He’s coming for me,” Sho said, and Jun followed his line of sight. He saw Inamine, steadily advancing towards them, a fierce look in his eyes.  
  
“Leave him to me,” Jun said.  
  
He felt a tug on his elbow, and he saw fear in Sho’s expression.  
  
“He will kill you,” Sho said.  
  
“He won’t. I won’t let him,” Jun said. “I made you a promise. I’m not breaking that.”  
  
He managed to shrug off Sho’s hold on him and said to the closest Denebian, “Stay by his side until I get back.”  
  
The Denebian nodded, taking his place as Jun met Inamine in the field. He had his saber ready and he skidded as it made contact with Inamine’s own. The man was pure force and stamina, and he laughed at Jun straightening his trunk to brace himself for another blow.  
  
“I’ve heard of you,” Inamine said. “The Saiphan who took his place beside the fraudulent heir. You betray your own planet by standing with him. Do you think he’ll spare your planet once this is over? He’ll ask you to kill your own people, just like what he’s doing now.”  
  
“You forced his hand,” Jun said, evading a slash that aimed for his head. “He’s not the enemy I was made to believe—you are. And whoever you’re working for.”  
  
“I’ll kill him after I kill you,” Inamine said.  
  
Jun ducked and swung but overestimated, and he was sent staggering when Inamine backhanded him. He tasted blood—thick and metallic, flooding his mouth. He spat and lunged, and he managed to wound Inamine’s side.  
  
It wasn’t enough to incapacitate but enough to anger, and Jun sidestepped and parried some of the blows that were meant to kill him. His arm was beginning to ache but he held on, putting force on his shoulder so he could push back a man nearly twice his size.  
  
A deflect in one of his attacks followed by a punch to his gut sent him back, but he only allowed himself to not take more than three steps backwards. He was the only thing standing between this man and Sho. If he failed, Sho would be next.  
  
Around them, he was beginning to hear cheers, and more red flooded his eyes. Sho’s colors. Sho’s bannerman, a soldier from Aiba’s sentry, kept the flag raised, and he heard Ohno yell, “Do not let them escape!”  
  
They were winning. Inamine noticed it, too, and he made a wide arc with his saber, one that Jun barely dodged.  
  
“Surrender,” Jun said. “It’s not too late.”  
  
“I will never serve him,” Inamine said. He might have been incredibly skilled in his prime, but he was old and prone to anger. Emotions had no place in the battlefield. “He should have died when he was young. He was never made to become emperor.”  
  
“Then there’s nothing more to say,” Jun told him, and he crouched to evade a blow aimed for his neck, did a feint, and held his breath.  
  
He drove his saber through Inamine’s chest and didn’t pull out, instead twisting it to ensure his kill.  
  
Inamine grabbed his neck and squeezed hard, and Jun buried the saber deeper. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t breathe, but after a beat, he felt the grip around his windpipe slacken and he pushed the dead body off him.  
  
He’d lose to Kiko but not to anyone else in a swordfight.  
  
He scanned the field and saw that Sho’s colors overwhelmed the invaders. He looked up and found their some of their ships still engaged in a shootout, but the enemy ships had decreased in number. Combined with Jun’s efforts with Nino earlier, the skies above them would soon be be Sho’s as well.  
  
Jun pushed past the soldiers to find Sho, and he saw him with Keiko who now hefted a plasma gun over her shoulder. She didn’t miss when she pulled the trigger, sending dozens of men to the ground. He made his way over, and Sho gave him one look from head to foot.  
  
“You’re bleeding,” Sho said, looking at his mouth.  
  
“He’s dead,” Jun said. His eyes did a quick sweep of the field. “You’re winning.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said. They were soon joined by Ohno whose cape was in tatters, a crack on the surface of his goggles, his cheeks smudged with dirt. “Satoshi-kun. It’s time to call for a surrender.”  
  
Ohno merely nodded. He raised his cybernetic arm and from the fortress walls, a prerecorded transmission could be heard, offering pardon for those who choose to surrender.  
  
“Their leader is dead,” Sho said. “They can choose to follow me or him.”  
  
Little by little, Jun saw the shift. The men fighting against them seemed to have realized that their most prominent warrior was dead and they began lowering their weapons. Some dropped their sabers and raised their hands in surrender while others fled. Sho gave the order to pursue those who ran, and Keiko called on the Denebians for the task. She joined them after procuring a speeder for herself and they separated from what remained of Sho’s army.  
  
“I want tonight to be a night of paying respects to our dead. All of them, including those part of the royal guard,” Sho said to Ohno. “Tomorrow, we send them to the stars.”  
  
Ohno gave a nod, and Jun saw him looking at the field. At the bodies that had piled, some on top of another. Most were of their enemy’s, but some were men Ohno had personally trained. Jun might not remember their names, but he could recall their faces.  
  
The Hamali tradition was that they send their dead to become one with their ancestors according to one of their old legends. Somewhere in space, the dust that had once formed the Old World still existed. The Hamali cremate their dead and scatter the ashes into space since they believe that their people would return to stardust.  
  
That Sho would still choose to honor them despite their betrayal was admirable.  
  
There was a hard look in Sho’s eyes, his breaths coming out rushed.  
  
“You’ve done it,” Jun told him.  
  
“Have I?” Sho asked, sounding detached. “It’s a strange thing. I don’t know how winning feels. I’ve never been victorious over anything before.”  
  
This, Jun realized, was the first time Sho had truly won. Against the play for his life, against the play for his crown.  
  
You’ve never won in your life, Inamine had said.  
  
“This is yours,” Jun said. “Your victory for your crown, for your people. You’re emperor now.”  
  
Sho looked at him, and perhaps, in this moment, they may have been thinking of the same thing.  
  
If they had more time, something would’ve happened. But Aiba was making his way towards them on a speeder, which he offered to Sho after climbing off it.  
  
“We’ll handle the rest,” Aiba said. “You should send a transmission to Sheratan. The princess would want to know.”  
  
Sho locked gazes with him, and Jun gave a nod. “Go,” he told Sho. “I’ll find you when I’m done here.”  
  
Sho left smoke as he sped away, and belatedly, Jun realized that he hadn’t properly addressed the new Emperor of Hamal. A glance at Aiba’s expression told him that Aiba had noticed.  
  
Jun cleared his throat. “Tell me what I can do.”  
  
“Follow me,” Aiba said and Jun allowed himself to be led away from most of the carnage. “Most of them have surrendered, but our men are still scattered and we can’t contain them.” Aiba gave him a look. “I saw you kill the councilman.”  
  
“He would never have surrendered,” Jun said. “Though I gave him the option.”  
  
“No, I know,” Aiba said. “I knew him. He was honed by the past wars and missed the thrill, always looking for a fight. He would have killed Sho-chan.”  
  
Jun said nothing. He didn’t know what to feel. All he knew was that he’d killed men he’d never known and only met today, just so none of them could lay a hand on Sho. That had been the only thing in his mind.  
  
Nothing else had mattered.  
  
Around them, the soldiers began to cheer Sho’s name. Some called him Emperor Sho of Hamal, others cheered for His Majesty, for the rightful heir.  
  
As the sun began its descent into the afternoon, Jun knew his time was almost up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An untagged thing in what happens here can be found in the end notes since it's spoilery.

The transmission Sho had sent to Sheratan addressed all the Hamali in their planet. His mother had given her support to his claim since she’d started to recover, and Jun watched the transmission along with the rest of Sho’s army as Iseya had it projected in the courtyard.  
  
Sho introduced himself as the new emperor along with the proclamation from his mother that given the recent events, the crown would be passed on to her heir as soon as he returned to the capital for his ascension. It became a joint transmission with his mother, who told the people the truth. The council had conspired against the crown and had intended to dethrone their family, but were subdued now thanks to Sho’s efforts at Lucida Ventris.  
  
The people surrounding Jun began chanting, “Long live the Emperor!” as soon as Sho reappeared in the courtyard. Jun couldn’t make himself speak, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Sho as he held up his hand to silence the crowd.  
  
“We’ve lost men and women today,” Sho said. “Some were our friends, some our enemies. Tonight, we honor them all regardless of which side they took. When I return to Sheratan, I will make my oath to the crown, to all the inhabitants of this planet. But I don’t need my title to give unto others what is their due, and so tonight, as we feast, we also toast in honor of those who stood with us in battle.”  
  
The crowd raised their fisted hands in affirmation, and Sho signalled to the servants lingering outside the keep to prepare for a banquet to be held in the courtyard.  
  
Jun left to find Okada’s temporary infirmary, a rather large tent that was filled with complaining soldiers as soon as Jun entered.  
  
“If you can still walk, you’re not that wounded. I’m short on hands, so go bother someone else,” Okada told him without looking up. He was applying the dermal regenerator to one Denebian. A portion of her shoulder had been singed off by a saber.  
  
“I was thinking you might want help,” Jun said. He knew how to patch up minor injuries thanks to his childhood.  
  
Okada lifted his head and regarded him. “Can you operate an osteogenic stimulator?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. He’d had a few broken bones before.  
  
Okada pointed to the corner. “Those guys there broke something. I don’t know what so ask them first. Then fix it, whatever it is. If you can’t, that’s when you call me.”  
  
“Got it,” Jun said. He passed by a couple of biobeds until he reached the spot Okada had mentioned, and he found Nino there.  
  
Jun frowned at him. “What did you break?”  
  
“Thankfully not my neck,” Nino said. If anything, Jun was relieved that he was alive. Jun hadn’t seen him and feared the worst, but of course here he was. “My wrist feels funny.”  
  
“Which one?” Jun asked, already reaching for the stimulator.  
  
“My precious left one,” Nino said. At the look Jun gave him, he added, “Careless, I know. Don’t be angry; you’re not the one who broke something.”  
  
“Keep your wrist still,” Jun said, and he carefully palpated for the bones. A few of them felt detached from the ligament, and judging from Nino’s answering wince, it was indeed broken. “I’ll start the repair. Once I’m done, go ask one of the nurses for a splint. You can only move it after a few hours.”  
  
Nino leveled him with a stare. “How do you know so much about this?”  
  
“I had an accident when I was a kid,” Jun said, using the story as a distraction as he began mending Nino’s wrist bones. “I was a very energetic child, and one time, while I was running outside and playing tag with my sister, I collided with a speeder.”  
  
“That must’ve hurt,” Nino said.  
  
“Broke some bones and got confined to the infirmary for a week or two,” Jun said. “I knew that wouldn’t be the last time given my nature, so in time, I learned how to patch myself up for minor injuries.” He pulled back. “How does your wrist feel?”  
  
“Still funny,” Nino said. “But the numb kind of funny unlike earlier.”  
  
“Off you go,” Jun said, moving on to the next soldier, a Hamali from Aiba’s sentry.  
  
As expected, Nino didn’t leave. He simply created a space on the biobed to fit another man, and he proceeded to chat with Jun.  
  
“Heard you killed the big bad man,” Nino said.  
  
Jun caught the Hamali snickering at Nino’s comment. “That’s a curious way of referring to him,” he said.  
  
“In terms of service, you did as well as any other man or woman here,” Nino said. “How do you think he’ll reward you?”  
  
“As he would any other man,” Jun said. He didn’t want to think of Sho’s promise of setting him free.  
  
“You should do what I told you to do,” Nino said. He got off the biobed and stalked away without hearing Jun’s retort.  
  
The Hamali whose ankle Jun was tending to spoke after a moment. “He’ll make a great emperor. I think he’ll reward you handsomely.”  
  
Jun wanted no gold or any form of compensation, but he couldn’t admit that.  
  
“I think so too,” was all he said.  
  
\--  
  
They paid their respects to their fallen comrades and enemies, and Sho ordered for the incineration to begin tomorrow instead of tonight. Those who had surrendered were kept in the dungeons of the keep but were provided with food and water.  
  
The feast was held in the courtyard, at the inner ward of the fortress. There were long tables that had foreign-looking but enticing plates of food, and Jun had taken his place beside Nino, who had welcomed him like an old friend.  
  
Their table had magic enthusiasts—or that was how Nino had referred to them—a combination of Denebians, Hamali, and outlaws who were easily impressed by Nino’s quick hands. As Jun took his fill of tonight’s meal, he found himself being in awe of Nino as he pulled the correct card from the stack.  
  
“Will you teach me that?” Jun asked despite knowing the answer.  
  
“So you’ll know where to look and you can call me a cheat? I think not,” Nino said, earning a few laughs from their table. He performed another trick, one that had the stern-looking Denebian soldier gasping in surprise.  
  
Nino looked self-satisfied and pleased, and Jun was glad to witness such a thing. It might be the first proof of true joy he’d seen in Nino since they’d arrived here.  
  
The night was quick to turn late, but the Denebians livened up the atmosphere by performing one of their war dances in honor of Sho’s victory. Keiko was asked to participate, and she recruited all female members of Sho’s personal guard to do the dance with her.  
  
Sho was seated on a table that stood atop a dais, a serene smile on his face as he watched the dance. Jun’s eyes gravitated towards him, at the thin line that crossed his cheek, a mark that he’d earned today. He’d had Okada tend to it, but instead of asking for a full dermal regeneration, he’d allowed a scar to be present.  
  
Sho, Jun realized, had always carried his scars. He hid them but hadn’t erased them.  
  
“Teach me a Saiphan dance,” Kiko said, and Jun’s attention snapped back to her pretty face. She was already pulling him to the center, and he tried to resist.  
  
“This is a Hamali celebration,” he told her. “Why would I dance the culture of my people tonight of all nights?”  
  
“Because you fought alongside us and if the new emperor is to be believed, Hamal will now strive to be a more accepting planet while still being mindful of tradition,” Kiko said with a smile. “Dance with me.”  
  
Their table had nothing but encouragement for him, and he sighed before acquiescing, allowing Kiko to lead him on. Her footsteps were light, almost like she’d sprint any moment, and Jun held her close as he began teaching her the most basic dance in the Saiphan court.  
  
It was a simple waltz that had a few jumps from time to time, and despite the music being foreign, Jun just followed the beat. He’d been raised to have an ear for music regardless of its origins, and soon, Kiko was laughing in his arms as they spun together, past other dancers who also took the floor.  
  
By the time they were done, the courtyard was brimming with life despite the lateness of the hour. People were chatting with one another, some had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Toasts were made in honor of the fallen, and stories were shared in memory of them. Some were already drunk with victory, and still the liquor kept coming. Iseya, it appeared, had stocks of Hamali rum that had gone unused until tonight.  
  
When Jun turned to look at the high table, Sho was nowhere to be found.  
  
Ohno was there, sharing drinks with a few of his men. Aiba was the same, except he was also doing impersonations of some noble that sent most of his men laughing. Keiko was now dancing with Daigo, who had a temporary cast for an arm since he’d sustained quite an injury.  
  
Nino was now performing his tricks on Kiko, who clapped in glee each time Nino fished out the right card. Around Jun, everyone had smiles on their faces, and Jun made his way past the soldiers to head inside the keep.  
  
Iseya was by the entrance, sharing a drink with General Ishihara who nodded in greeting when she saw Jun.  
  
“Have you seen the emperor?” Jun asked Iseya.  
  
“Wasn’t he outside? I didn’t see him come in,” Iseya said. “Let him be. He’s got a lot on his mind.”  
  
“Thank you,” was all Jun said, excusing himself with a small bow.  
  
Jun did a quick sweep around the courtyard and wasn’t able to spot the familiar brown hair. He walked past tables, past men who’d clapped him on the back since they now treated Jun as one of them, past the offers of some Denebian women.  
  
He was needed elsewhere was the excuse he’d given them.  
  
Past the inner ward was the outer complex, an extension of the courtyard that served as the parking space for all their ships. Repairs would begin tomorrow, and the ships that would be considered too damaged to be fixed would be dismantled, their parts to be scavenged for the other functional ships.  
  
This part of the fortress wasn’t properly illuminated, but Jun could see the towering shadows of different ships. He was searching for one ship in particular, and he knew he wouldn’t mistake her silhouette despite being surrounded by many others.  
  
Otonoha was moved from where Jun had landed her, but her hatch was opened, the ramp lowered. It was dark inside but Jun climbed up anyway, bypassing the cargo hold and the bridge to get to the only quarters in the ship.  
  
Sho was seated on the floor of his quarters, his back inclined against the bed, neck resting on the edge of it. The room was dim, lights set to fifteen percent when Jun checked. Sho’s eyes were shut, and for a moment, Jun thought he was asleep.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Sho said without opening his eyes.  
  
“That’s the second time you said those words to me,” Jun told him.  
  
“I will stop once you learn not to keep me waiting,” Sho said. He got to his feet and moved to sit on the bed. “You helped me win a great victory today.”  
  
The badge pinned on Jun’s chest felt inexplicably heavy. He glanced at the chronometer on Sho’s nightstand, aware of the hours. He didn’t have many of them left.  
  
“Back in the outskirts, I gave you my word regarding the compensation you can expect to receive for your efforts,” Sho said.  
  
There was a spike of anger in Jun, one he was unable to suppress. “Why do you talk to me like that?”  
  
“Like what?” Sho asked.  
  
“Like—” Like the past few weeks hadn’t happened, he wanted to say. Like nothing has changed between us. “Like I’m one of your soldiers.”  
  
“But you are one of them,” Sho said. “Half the toasts to victory were made in your name. You’re not drunk. You should be able to remember something like that.”  
  
“I didn’t come here to talk about what I did,” Jun said. “I know what I did. I know why I did it.”  
  
“When I return to Sheratan, it will all be official. That’s the day after tomorrow. I will have the power of an emperor, and the oath you swore to me is held fulfilled as soon as I wear the crown.”  
  
Jun knew all of this. He didn’t want to think about it.  
  
“When I leave for Sheratan, consider yourself a free man,” Sho said. “You may take any ship of your choosing, and should you wish it, you’re welcome to reside in any of the colonies that are part of Hamal’s territory. If you need to find employment, tell me at once and you will have the job you want.”  
  
“My freedom is mine,” Jun said. “When you leave, it’s up to me what I want to do with it, yes?”  
  
Sho looked at him. “Yes.”  
  
“Then,” Jun said, “I want you to give my freedom to Ninomiya.”  
  
That earned him Sho’s surprise. He could tell from the subtle lift of Sho’s eyebrows. “Ninomiya?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. “Give Ninomiya a ship and send him home. To Alnitak. He has family there, people he hasn’t seen for a long time. I promised I’ll help him find his way back there, and now I’m asking you to help me make that happen.”  
  
“You’d give away your chance to flee from all of this to someone like Ninomiya? Why?”  
  
“Because I know how it feels like to miss family,” Jun said. Not a single day went by that he hadn’t thought of his father, the Rina he’d known and had grown up with. He’d loved them dearly.  
  
Sho was silent for a few moments, and Jun remained where he was, standing by the doorway as he waited for Sho’s response.  
  
“Does Ninomiya know of this? Of this bargain you’re making in his name?” Sho asked.  
  
“He will soon,” Jun said. “I don’t think he’ll refuse. And I think a part of him expects me to do something like this.”  
  
“Ninomiya has shown excellent service for months now,” Sho said.  
  
“You told me once you’re fair. You’re not kind, but you’re fair,” Jun said.  
  
“I intend to reward Ninomiya with whatever he wants. If he wants this for himself, he shall have it. Same for you.”  
  
Jun blinked. “What?”  
  
“I promised you freedom, Matsumoto. You said it’s up to you what you want to do with it. I’m giving it to you once I go.”  
  
Jun crossed the distance between them and stood before Sho, who tilted his neck to meet his eyes.  
  
“Is that what you want?” Jun asked.  
  
“It’s not about what I want.”  
  
“That’s not what I asked,” Jun said. He didn’t know where the next words had come from. “Ask me to stay and I will.”  
  
“You can’t,” Sho said softly, a sad smile on his face.  
  
The truth felt suffocating. “I would if I could,” Jun amended.  
  
“Yes. You would. What I don’t know is why you’d choose to. I didn’t treat you kindly.”  
  
Right now, Jun felt that he belonged here. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He reached out, making contact for the first time. His thumb brushed Sho’s cheek, at the edge of his new scar. It didn’t make him any less attractive, instead drew more attention. Jun wanted to do more than just press his fingertip against it. “The soldier who did this to you.”  
  
“He’s dead,” Sho told him. He didn’t twitch nor shy away from Jun’s touch, but he stayed very still. “Just like Inamine.”  
  
“I killed him,” Jun said. “Before he could even think of killing you.”  
  
Sho’s eyes drifted shut, his eyelashes fanning his cheeks. He remained motionless, his breathing shallow. “Tell me your name.”  
  
Jun’s hand froze. He couldn’t deny who he was. “What?” he asked weakly.  
  
“Your name. Give me your name,” Sho said with eyes closed.  
  
“Jun.” It was all he could say.  
  
Sho finally looked at him. “What do you want?”  
  
He didn’t withdraw his hand. “Tell me to stay,” he asked selfishly.  
  
Sho appeared conflicted. His bottom lip trembled as he stuck to silence.  
  
There were sacrifices kings-to-be had to make.  
  
For a moment, Jun wanted to give it all up. To live the lie, to be here whenever Sho needed him. Just for now, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted what Crown Prince Jun would never have.  
  
“Stay by my side,” Sho muttered quietly, almost imperceptibly. “Not forever. At least…”  
  
“At least?”  
  
“Until tonight,” Sho finished.  
  
The only time he’d seen Sho this vulnerable had been when he’d learned about what had happened to his mother.  
  
Jun’s touch shifted, fingers dragging down from Sho’s cheek to the proud curve of his jaw and finally coiling under his chin. He tipped Sho’s face towards him and bent down, closing his eyes.  
  
It was light—the softest kiss Jun had had with anyone. Their lips merely touched, and it felt tentative, almost shy and hesitant. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the company of another. It had been in Saiph, many months ago. But this wasn’t a pleasure worker or any duke or duchess, or a lady or a gentleman of his father’s court.  
  
This was Sho. Fierce, brave, infuriating, stubborn Sho.  
  
A hand came up Jun’s chest, gripping his badge tight. A tug and it came off, and Jun heard a thunk as it hit the floor beside their feet. Sho’s touch returned, fisting at the part of Jun’s tunic where the badge had been, and Jun felt Sho kiss back, igniting something he hadn’t felt in too long.  
  
Jun’s hand slid down to cup Sho’s neck, using it as leverage as their kiss gradually turned heated. Jun felt heady, his senses only aware of Sho—his scent, his taste, the feel of his mouth, the rush of his hot breath.  
  
When they broke apart, Jun couldn’t keep away for long. He leaned in once more, and this time Sho seemed ready for him, hands coming up to bury themselves in his hair. Jun had longer, thicker hair now, the tips almost covering his ears. It was reminder of how long he’d been in here.  
  
Sho stood without separating from him, and like this, with his height close to Jun’s, Jun allowed himself to touch. He ran his fingers over the entirety of Sho’s new scar, familiarizing himself with the raised skin. His touch reached Sho’s neck and he rested his thumbs over Sho’s pulses, feeling them flicker wildly.  
  
It was Sho who pulled away this time, his breath hurried, mouth glistening and swollen. Jun held Sho’s face in his hands, afraid Sho would walk away and disappear.  
  
“Tell me you want this,” he said.  
  
“Do I look like I don’t want it?” Sho asked.  
  
“Tell me,” he said right over Sho’s mouth.  
  
“I want it,” Sho whispered between them. “I wanted it since we rode that speeder and saw the sea, the cliffs, the old mining station. I wanted it since I allowed you to be that close.”  
  
Jun kissed him hard this time, tonguing at the crevice until it parted for him. He held Sho like he didn’t want to let him go, like they had all the time despite the hours ticking.  
  
There would never be another night like this.  
  
Jun guided Sho back towards the bed, pulling away briefly to give Sho some room to breathe. Sho began unlacing his boots and Jun did the same, not bothering with undoing all the knots, instead loosening them just enough that he could slip them off.  
  
Sho was already settled on the bed when Jun climbed on it, his knees on either sides of Sho’s body. Like this, Jun had Sho where he wanted him to be, like he suddenly acquired everything he could ever want.  
  
He bent down to kiss Sho again, relishing the moment. If he could have this only for tonight, then he’d make the most of it. Sho tasted like rum as Jun took his little noises of pleasure for himself. He kissed Sho until he felt his lungs burn, and he began scattering kisses from Sho’s jaw down to his neck.  
  
He found a small dot, a pinpoint change in pigmentation that he’d never noticed before and ran his tongue over it, which earned him a quiet gasp. He felt Sho respond under him as he left no part of Sho’s neck untouched by his mouth.  
  
“Let me,” Jun said against Sho’s skin. The rest went unsaid, but he knew Sho would understand.  
  
Let me have this for tonight.  
  
Fingers brushed against his stomach as Sho took hold of the hem of his tunic, pushing the material up.  
  
“Let me see you,” Sho said.  
  
There was nothing Jun wouldn’t give to him.  
  
He maneuvered his arms accordingly, allowing Sho to slip the tunic off him. Sho discarded it to their side, to the floor, and Jun withdrew a little to let him see.  
  
Sho’s fingers skimmed over his ribs, fleeting touches that nearly made Jun squirm. Sho’s palms lay flat on his chest, and Jun wondered if Sho could feel his thundering heartbeat.  
  
Jun maneuvered himself so he could slip his hands inside Sho’s tunic, and he heard Sho’s breath hitch.  
  
“Nothing you don’t want,” he said. He fisted at the hem of the cloth and waited, not pushing the tunic up.  
  
Sho shut his eyes. “There are scars,” he murmured. The lack of adequate lighting made it hard to tell, but Jun thought he may be blushing.  
  
Jun nodded and let go, but Sho stopped him, grabbing his wrists.  
  
“I—” Sho started, his grip on Jun loosening, “I require a moment.”  
  
“All right,” Jun said. It occurred to him that perhaps, Sho had had partners in the past who’d made him feel embarrassed.  
  
“They’re ugly,” Sho said with an edge to his voice. “But I kept them to remind myself.”  
  
“I’m not going to force you,” Jun told him honestly. “If you don’t want to—”  
  
“No, I do trust you,” Sho said. Then he nodded, eyes still shut. “I think it’s all right now.”  
  
Jun slowly pushed the tunic up, revealing skin. The gash he’d seen on Sho’s flank wasn’t the greatest of his scars. He had one near his breastbone, one that hadn’t healed quite well. Unlike the silver scar Sho had on his side, the one close to his sternum was a wine-red patch of hypertrophic skin. Another sat right over Sho’s chest, a mark of an old, poorly done suture.  
  
By the time Jun had the tunic removed, Sho lay very still. Jun cupped his chin and tilted Sho’s face towards him.  
  
“Look at me,” he coaxed softly.  
  
It took more than a beat before Sho did.  
  
“Don’t take your eyes off me,” he said, and he ducked. He pressed his lips over the scar on Sho’s chest, raining kisses over the length of it.  
  
He was rewarded with a gasp and he did it again, until slowly, he felt Sho relaxing under him.  
  
“I was grazed by an arrow there. I patched it up myself,” Sho said in between breaths. To Jun, it appeared that Sho was talking to distract himself from reacting too much. “That’s why it left a mark like that. I didn’t want the royal physician to know.”  
  
Jun lifted his head, and Sho was looking right at him.  
  
“A part of me didn’t believe it,” Sho said. “That people I treated as family would hurt me.”  
  
Jun had shared those feelings once. He continued trailing kisses downward, until he’d kissed all the scars visible to him. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of any of these,” he said. “They did nothing but tell me that you’re a survivor, and I’m glad for that.” He lingered on Sho’s navel, pulling back in confusion when he felt a break on the skin there.  
  
“This isn’t a scar,” he noted.  
  
“No, it isn’t. I had piercings once. One on my ear and one there.”  
  
Jun hadn’t been expecting that. He ran his fingers over it. “What did it look like?”  
  
“I had a stud first then I got more daring as I got older,” Sho said. “You seem fixated with it.”  
  
“I would have wanted to see you wearing it,” Jun said. “And would have loved to do this.” He bent down and began nipping, delighting in the small hiss that escaped from Sho. He moved lower, tongue following the trail of dark hair.  
  
“Come back,” Sho said.  
  
Jun crept back up, welcoming Sho’s kiss with enthusiasm, lowering his body so he could rub himself against Sho. The friction made the both of them moan, and Jun did it again, kissing Sho silent, claiming that vicious, clever mouth that had said both kind and cruel things.  
  
Sho’s hands moved to his back, claiming territory from his shoulders down to his spine. Sho broke the kiss to say, “Lie on your back,” and Jun moved off him, making himself comfortable on Sho’s bed.  
  
“Do you have plans?” Jun asked now that Sho was straddling him.  
  
“Many,” Sho said. “Which one would you like to hear?”  
  
“The ones involving me,” Jun said.  
  
“I want to see you,” Sho said.  
  
The lie tasted bitter on Jun’s tongue. “You are seeing me.”  
  
If Sho had noticed anything, there was no indication of it. Instead Sho’s hand crept lower, ticklish fingers brushing against Jun’s abdomen and slipping past his trousers. The sudden contact made Jun arch against Sho’s palm, his head throwing back.  
  
“I meant that I want to see you fully roused,” Sho said, smiling.  
  
Jun sat up and grabbed Sho’s nape, kissing him. His hips lifted on their own accord, trying to feel more of Sho’s touch than what was possible.  
  
Sho pulled away and pushed him back, and Jun braced himself with his palms flat on the bed. Sho maneuvered his own body to make room, hands catching on to the waistband of Jun’s trousers. He lowered them as far as they could go along with Jun’s undergarments, and Jun kicked them off the rest of the way.  
  
Jun caught Sho licking his lips, leaving them glistening and tempting. He moved to kiss Sho again, but Sho placed a hand flat on his chest to stop him.  
  
“As addicting your mouth is, there’s something I want to do now that I’ve seen you like this,” Sho said. He made room for himself by nudging Jun’s legs apart, settling himself comfortably until Jun felt his breath against his cock, and the first lick had Jun exhaling.  
  
Sho did it again, swirling his tongue over the head, and Jun didn’t tear his eyes away from him. Even if he had to close his eyes as Sho grew bolder, he ascertained he opened them again. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this.  
  
When Sho wrapped his lips around him and applied pressure, Jun let out a noise.  
  
In the past, he’d thought about the things he’d like to do with Sho’s cruel mouth. All the insults, the scathing truths, the things Jun had to stomach before—they were now gone in favor of giving him pleasure.  
  
Sho broke off, and Jun said with a touch of embarrassment, “It’s been a while.”  
  
“I can imagine,” Sho said. He was smiling. “Months?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun admitted. “I’ve never been with anyone since I arrived here.”  
  
Sho’s fingers wrapped around his cock and squeezed, his other hand slipping behind Jun’s neck, pulling him closer. “That pleases me. I don’t want any other Hamali to touch you like this. Or anyone for that matter.”  
  
“I wouldn’t let anybody else,” Jun said over Sho’s mouth. “I don’t want them.”  
  
Sho pushed him back, strong enough that his back hit the sheets. The surprise didn’t last long, instead replaced by a wave of pleasure as Sho’s mouth returned to his cock. It felt too hot and too good, and Jun buried his hand in Sho’s hair just to give himself something to hold on to, the other fisting tight on the sheets on his side.  
  
Whatever Sho was doing with his tongue sent Jun groaning, eyes rolling shut. Despite the rumors about the number of times Sho had taken someone into his bed, he was experienced. Sho knew when to stop and tease Jun with flicks of his tongue over the slit, when to take Jun to the back of his throat to have him gasping. Sho kept him on edge, giving him a few strokes whenever he felt close to coming.  
  
“You weren’t lying about it being a while,” Sho remarked, amusement rich in his voice.  
  
“Do you want me to beg?” Jun asked.  
  
“We both know you’d never,” Sho said. “Though I find it interesting to see you like this. You’re always in control, always so composed.”  
  
A squeeze made Jun bite back a groan. “That’s not true,” he managed to say. “I wasn’t composed when I flew this ship with Nino. A part of me was afraid.”  
  
“I never saw you afraid,” Sho said. “Not even on our way to Denebia—the planet that didn’t trust men. What were you terrified of?”  
  
“That I wouldn’t be able to return here,” Jun admitted, ending in a gasp. “To you.”  
  
He felt Sho move, and he opened his eyes just in time to meet Sho’s mouth halfway. Sho kissed him hard, wanting and almost desperate.  
  
“Tonight is ours,” Sho whispered between them. “Tonight, you’re mine as I’m yours.”  
  
If Jun could, he’d choose to remain in this moment, for this night to never end.  
  
Sho’s hot mouth wrapped around him again, and this time Sho didn’t hold back. He didn’t stop even as Jun tugged on his hair in warning.  
  
His climax had his thighs shaking, euphoria flooding his body and traveling in a rush. He opened his eyes when he felt a hand cup his face, a thumb running over his mouth.  
  
“I—” Jun tried, but his voice sounded like it’d fail him any moment.  
  
Sho smiled, thumb now brushing against his bottom lip. “We have all night.”  
  
To Jun, that wasn’t enough. That thought was what willed him to move after he’d caught his breath, nudging Sho to have Sho move off him. Sho took the hint, kneeling on his side and watching him.  
  
“I want to do something,” Jun said.  
  
“Something,” Sho repeated.  
  
“Yes. I want you on your elbows and knees.”  
  
Sho blinked.  
  
“Please,” Jun said. “Let me. I promise it’ll feel good.”  
  
Sho shuffled to assume the position, saying, “You’ve never broken an oath to me before.”  
  
“No,” Jun affirmed, “and I don’t plan to start now.”  
  
When Sho appeared to have settled, Jun had his body touch Sho’s, until his lips could rest on Sho’s nape. He breathed Sho in, hoping he’d remember even after tonight. He kissed the ridge formed by Sho’s spine, down, down, until he reached Sho’s rear.  
  
He flattened his palms on the cheeks to spread them, flicking his tongue over Sho’s hole. He heard a sharp intake of breath and did it again. He felt a thud as Sho’s forehead hit the mattress.  
  
Jun ran his tongue from Sho’s hole past his perineum, one hand sliding down so he could guide Sho’s cock into his mouth. If Sho made a sound it was muffled against the sheets. Jun didn’t mind; the way Sho was pushing back towards his mouth to feel more was indication enough—he was giving Sho pleasure.  
  
He moved his tongue up, tasting Sho once more, hands squeezing his ass. The noises Sho was making were getting to him, and he felt himself stirring the longer he licked around. He heard a tumble to his side, and he lifted his head to see Sho’s hand blindly reaching out on top of the nightstand. Sho appeared to have found what he was looking for, a tube that he tossed in Jun’s direction without looking back.  
  
Jun rested a hand on the cleft of Sho’s ass as he sat up. “Are you sure?” he asked.  
  
“What does it look like?” Sho asked back, irritated. “I can touch myself if you don’t hurry up.”  
  
Jun couldn’t help smiling, briefly moving back up so he could kiss Sho’s shoulder. “All right.”  
  
He grabbed the tube and applied some of its contents onto his fingers, and he proceeded to kneel between Sho’s legs. He pressed his finger against Sho’s hole, circling it before he made an intrusion, keeping it slow.  
  
Jun shuffled forward so Sho would also feel his tongue as he began fingering Sho open. The hand that reached back buried in his hair and pushed his face forward, and when Jun slipped his tongue inside Sho, he finally heard a groan.  
  
It took some time, but Sho eventually loosened up for two fingers. He made a sound Jun wouldn’t forget when Jun started to crook his fingers, and Jun’s cock twitched between his legs. When Jun had three, he felt Sho’s hand fall away from where he’d had a fist in Jun’s hair.  
  
“Roll over,” Jun coaxed.  
  
Sho looked at him over his shoulder, and Jun hoped that the lust he could see on Sho’s face was mirrored on his own.  
  
“I want to see your face,” Jun said. He wasn’t making love for the fun of it. He wanted them to be as intimate as possible, for everything to be unhurried.  
  
He sat back on his heels as Sho lay on his back, legs spreading so Jun could settle between them.  
  
“What do you want?” Jun asked.  
  
Sho gave him a somewhat disapproving look. “Do I have to spell it out?”  
  
“Tell me,” Jun said anyway. “I need to hear it.”  
  
An exhale, then: “I want you in me.”  
  
Fire roiled in Jun’s gut, and he began searching the nightstand. Sho made no move to help him, and after seconds of coming up with nothing, Jun heard him chuckle.  
  
“It’s in the other table,” Sho said, finally deciding to be helpful.  
  
“Why do you keep it separately from the lube?” Jun asked, annoyed.  
  
“Because I rarely find myself in need of it,” Sho said. At the look on Jun’s face, he added, “It’s not just a reputation. I’m very picky with whom I choose to share a bed with.”  
  
“Should I consider this an honor then?” Jun asked. He found what he needed and tore it open, and he slipped it on himself before he grabbed the tube. “You’re not a conquest. I’m not doing this to prove something.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said. “You’re too old for that mindset, anyway.”  
  
That made Jun smile, and he slicked himself before he lined up, one arm going under Sho’s knee. He met Sho’s eyes and Sho nodded, and Jun pushed in.  
  
The heat that enveloped him had him clutching tightly at Sho’s leg. He didn’t move, instead aligned his body with Sho’s, and when it resulted to him sliding further in, Sho finally made a sound that got caught in his throat.  
  
Jun braced himself on his forearms, and he had Sho’s face caged between them as he swooped down to find Sho’s mouth. He kissed Sho and began moving in short pushes that spurred him into wanting more.  
  
Sho’s hands wormed around his back, holding him close. They slowly rocked together, and soon, Sho began meeting his thrusts halfway.  
  
He hid his face in the junction formed by Sho’s neck and shoulder and picked up pace. He felt as if he could suffocate in his growing desire for Sho despite already having him like this. He took his next breath against Sho’s throat, and a particularly hard thrust had Sho’s legs bracketing his thighs.  
  
It was easier to move now, and he had the entire length of his cock inside before he pulled out and slid in once more.  
  
“Sho,” he whispered unbidden, breathlessly.  
  
“Yes,” he heard Sho hiss in response, nails scraping against his skin. “Yes, yes.”  
  
Sho was arching against him and taking it even as the mattress creaked, legs tightening around his thighs. He bared his neck for Jun to taste, and Jun licked the bead of sweat that had traveled down to Sho’s collarbone.  
  
The air was too hot, like the fire inside Jun had grown into an inferno that enveloped them both. With the way Sho was clutching at him, he knew Sho was also feeling the sweltering need. They were one.  
  
“Say it,” Jun begged. “Say my name.”  
  
A tingle traveled up his spine and steadily built up, culminating into something raw that Jun hadn’t felt with anyone else. Prince Jun could’ve had anyone, but not Sho. He’d never wanted anything as much as this, and this was something he could only have once. When Sho leaves for Sheratan, he had to go too.  
  
He reached to their side to find Sho’s hand, raising it above them and entwining their fingers. He squeezed and whispered, “Please.”  
  
A sharp thrust had Sho grunting, and Jun finally heard his name.  
  
“Again,” Jun said, teeth catching on to Sho’s earlobe and tugging. “Again, again.”  
  
“Jun,” Sho breathed. “Jun, yes.”  
  
When Sho cried out, he pushed himself up with his grip on Sho’s hand acting as leverage. With his other hand, he reached down to find Sho’s cock, stroking it.  
  
Sho moaned and Jun kissed him, though it was mostly teeth given his lust and desperation. Sho bit on Jun’s bottom lip, sending him gasping, hips speeding up in response.  
  
“Not before I do,” Sho husked between them, and Jun’s eyes snapped open. “Not yet.”  
  
“With me,” Jun said against Sho’s jaw.  
  
Jun knew he was close, but he staved off the nearing orgasm by stilling his hips. He remained buried in Sho, his lower half unmoving but his trunk shuddering, and Sho kissed the tip of his nose.  
  
“I need to—” Jun tried, and he hissed when Sho clenched around him. “Sho.”  
  
Sho scattered soft kisses all over his face, silencing Jun's moan when he rocked against Jun’s body.  
  
“Together,” Sho said. “Like always.”  
  
Jun moved slowly, but he quickly found the rhythm he’d established earlier. He nearly tipped over the edge, hastily reaching down to fist at Sho’s cock, and Sho let out a choked groan. Sho’s hand squeezed his, and Jun felt Sho twitch in his palm.  
  
His hips stuttered, and when Sho’s release hit his skin, he let out a groan as he gave in, his mind turning to a sea of white. He could feel nothing but bliss, could hear nothing but the buzz ringing in his ears. When he came to, he had Sho panting in his arms, and he let go of Sho’s hand to tip Sho’s face towards his.  
  
The kiss they shared was lighter and somewhat lethargic, merely lips brushing and returning. It was the kind of kiss that Jun preferred, and he found it difficult to break apart.  
  
He slowly withdrew, and Sho lowered his legs with another grunt. For a moment, he contented himself with staring at Sho—the healthy tinge of pink that colored his cheeks, neck, and chest, the soft pout of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
No one in Lucida Ventris had seen Sho like this except for him, and he felt a thrum of pleasure at the thought.  
  
He got off the bed before he’d be unable to resist the urge to touch, disposing of the condom as he made his way to refresher. He found himself in a similar state as Sho, his flush more pronounced given his complexion. He cleaned up as best as he could and retrieved a towel, running it under the sonics before he returned.  
  
Sho moved to sit up, but Jun said, “Don’t.” At the look Sho gave him, he added, “Let me.”  
  
He crept back to the bed and began wiping Sho’s stomach. He moved to between Sho’s legs after, trying to be thorough, until he heard Sho say, “That’s enough.”  
  
Jun stopped and Sho said, “Come here.”  
  
Jun threw the towel to the side, not caring where it landed. He lay on the spot beside Sho, and Sho turned to his side to face him, fingers coming up to brush away his fringe, the strands stuck to his forehead.  
  
The chronometer ticked behind Jun, but he didn’t dare turn.  
  
“When I was young,” Sho started, and Jun didn’t look anywhere else but him, “I was told your kind will kill mine without hesitation.” Sho’s fingers were idly tracing patterns over Jun’s chest, his touch light but affectionate. “That you’ve taken from us and will continue to do so. Everyone in Hamal has been taught that, from nobility to the common folk. As children, we all believed you would hurt us in one way or another.”  
  
“Have I hurt you?” Jun asked.  
  
“No.” Sho smiled. “You were a generous, attentive lover. If you’ve hurt me, you would’ve known.”  
  
Jun caught Sho’s hand in his and pressed a kiss to each of his fingers. “As a boy, I was taught that Hamali were unforgiving and vindictive. That you hate us and will continue to hate us, that no motions for peace will be entertained.”  
  
His father had been the one who had said the latter. They are unreasonable, he’d told Jun. They’re completely hung up on traditions and the only way they’d entertain peace with us is if we make them ours.  
  
Jun had been a boy then, no older than ten. He hadn’t known his father had been intending to conquer Hamal—he’d thought such a thing could happen without bloodshed.  
  
“I intend to keep my word,” Sho said. “Once I leave for the capital, you are free. If Ninomiya wishes the same, tell him to come to me at once.”  
  
The desire to stay could choke Jun with its intensity. He couldn’t have this just for once. He wanted it now more than ever. “I’d stay if you asked.”  
  
“And that’s why I will never,” Sho said. “You’re the only Saiphan in this planet and the only one I allowed to be this close. If you stay, they will use you against me.” Sho slipped out of his grip, fingers reappearing to trace the outline of his lips. “I can’t let that happen. I’m responsible for a planet now.”  
  
Jun held Sho’s hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. “But you’re not responsible for me.”  
  
Sho gave him a sad smile. “It’s still night. I promised you tonight.”  
  
They moved forward at the same time, and Jun pulled Sho close as he kissed him, his tongue slipping past Sho’s lips. He’d have whatever Sho would give him. If all of Sho was his tonight, then he’d ascertain he’d never forget how it felt.  
  
He guided Sho so he’d have Sho’s body on top of his, and he allowed Sho to claim his mouth, not wishing for him to stop. He held Sho close, arms locked around his waist, and they only broke apart when Jun felt his lungs burning.  
  
“Usually,” Sho said, his breathing hurried, “I don’t let anyone remain in my bed this long.”  
  
“Are you telling me to go?” Jun asked, the tip of his thumb grazing Sho’s eyebrow.  
  
“That’s the last thing I want you to do,” Sho said, giving in to a brief kiss. It was, Jun thought, the closest thing to an admission. “Though I’d like to bathe.”  
  
Jun grinned. “Is that an invitation? I won’t say no.”  
  
“Then come with me,” Sho said, dislodging Jun’s arms around his waist. He stalked naked towards the bathroom, and Jun allowed himself a moment to ogle. The enticing line of Sho’s spine, the impressive musculature of his back, the curve of his ass…  
  
“Now,” Sho said impatiently. “Stare all you want later.”  
  
Jun allowed himself a small laugh before he followed, and he proceeded to learn more about Sho’s body under the sonics.  
  
\--  
  
The morning came and Jun found himself waking before Sho did. Sho had his head pillowed on Jun’s arm, and Jun watched him sleep for a moment. Like this, he didn’t seem to be an emperor fighting for his planet. He appeared to be just a man who had enjoyed himself the night before.  
  
Sho stirred when Jun skimmed his fingers over his arm, eyes slowly fluttering open, and something inside Jun ached when they locked eyes and Sho smiled.  
  
This unguarded version of Sho was just for him to see. And he’d likely never witness it again.  
  
“Good morning,” Jun greeted.  
  
“Good morning,” Sho said in return. “What time is it?”  
  
Jun glanced at the chronometer and said, “A little late for your usual.”  
  
“Well, that’s comforting. I haven’t slept that long in a while.” Sho sat up and stretched, his joints popping. His back had curves Jun wanted to touch, but he didn’t know if it was still welcome. The night was over.  
  
Sho left the bed to head for the refresher, and Jun remained where he was, hand eventually straying to the spot that Sho had occupied, fingers spreading over the still warm sheets. They’d slept after lingering too long under the sonic showers. In there, Jun had discovered that Sho liked the feeling of being pressed against something. He’d trapped Sho between himself and the wall and Sho had voiced no complaint, instead had welcomed him like he was an old lover.  
  
Jun got off the bed to prevent himself from remembering too much. Sho had slept soundly in his arms, and before Jun had succumbed to sleep, he’d allowed himself to foolishly entertain the thought that no one could harm Sho if he remained where he was.  
  
He freshened up as soon as Sho granted him entry, and when he returned to the room, he found Sho slipping his clothes back on. He was in no rush, but the more skin he covered, the more Jun couldn’t bear to watch him.  
  
Without a word, Jun picked up his clothes from the floor and started dressing up, his back turned to Sho. In the past, he’d had mornings that had been full of indulgence, and he’d have given anything to have something like that with Sho.  
  
But today was no longer theirs.  
  
As he slipped his trousers back on, he started remembering. The parts of his chest that Sho had kissed, had caressed while they’d been trying to bathe. The noises Sho had made while Jun had them both close to the edge.  
  
He had his tunic fisted in his hands and raised when he heard Sho say, “Wait.”  
  
He lowered the tunic and looked at Sho in question, and found him staring.  
  
“I—” Sho said, a faint blush climbing to his cheeks, “I haven’t seen this much last night. The last time was in Denebia, and I was exhausted then.”  
  
Jun faced him properly, and he watched as Sho’s eyes raked over his body. “Exhausted enough to be unable to fully appreciate?” he asked.  
  
Sho scoffed. “Please. You know what you have. And you know how I feel about it.”  
  
Jun strode towards him, fingers tentatively cupping Sho’s chin. Sho didn’t move away, and he took it as permission. It wasn’t much of a skin contact, but Sho was already leaning towards him, eyes expectant.  
  
Jun waited. He didn’t want to be presumptive.  
  
Then: “Kiss me,” Sho whispered.  
  
Jun had to tilt his neck a little to capture Sho’s mouth, and he delighted in the sigh Sho made as a response. They kissed slowly, as if they could afford it. He discarded his tunic to the floor, hands slipping down to Sho’s hips just as Sho’s arms looped around his neck, drawing him closer.  
  
They pulled away the same time when they heard a surprised gasp from the doorway, and Jun could feel his cheeks burning when he saw Yoko hurriedly bowing his head, eyes fixed on his feet.  
  
There was no denying what he’d seen. Jun, after all, was still half naked, and behind them, the bed was unmade.  
  
“My apologies, Your Highness,” Yoko said with a slight stammer. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else at present. “I was sent here to begin repairs, but I didn’t think the ship was occupied.”  
  
“No matter,” Sho said, stepping back and fixing his tunic. Jun already missed him. “Will this ship be ready for my ascension?”  
  
“Kazama promises it will be,” Yoko said, head still bowed. “It’s why he sent me to work on the fuel cells first.”  
  
“The fuel cells,” Sho said. “That should be on the other side of the ship, no?”  
  
Jun gave Sho a disapproving look, but he seemed to be delighted by how much he could embarrass one of his men who’d walked in on them. Sho waved him off.  
  
“My apologies,” Yoko said once more. “I heard voices and thought to inspect it since Kazama had this ship off-limits to anyone who isn’t assigned to work on its repairs.”  
  
Jun imagined that Yoko had come prepared to yell at any unauthorized person, and had he been alone, he’d be the recipient of a reprimand. The state Yoko had found them in had changed things.  
  
“Off-limits,” Sho repeated. Jun picked up his tunic off the floor to slip it over his head. After, he began lacing his boots. “Very well. We’ll be leaving shortly. Tell Kazama to resume work in an hour.”  
  
“Understood, Your Highness.”  
  
“You’re dismissed.”  
  
Yoko left with a bow so low he was nearly bent in half, and Jun waited until they heard his footsteps fading.  
  
“An hour?” he asked.  
  
“Yes,” Sho said, frowning at the sight of his boots. “I see you’ve chosen to have us lose precious minutes while I just bought us an hour.”  
  
Jun didn’t wait for an order this time, reaching for the back of Sho’s neck to continue what they’d been doing before the rather rude interruption. “We should close the door,” he said belatedly, over Sho’s plump mouth.  
  
“And rob me of my fun? No,” Sho said. “Let them see. So they know they cannot touch you.”  
  
Jun pushed Sho back to the bed, and Sho landed on it with a soft grunt. Jun climbed over him, kissing him once more. “You promised me a night,” he said, despite Sho’s hands already slipping under his tunic, nails scraping across his flesh and making him hiss.  
  
“Then I also promise you this hour,” Sho said with a smile.  
  
\--  
  
They returned to the keep together, and judging from the looks Jun had received on the way there, he knew Yoko had already told everyone.  
  
There was food prepared in the banquet hall of the keep, and Jun found Iseya waiting for them. Sho took his seat and the servants rushed in, placing plates and goblets and utensils with practiced ease.  
  
Iseya waited until the three of them were alone. “You didn’t use your room,” he said to Sho.  
  
“It’s not as if I wished to waste your efforts in preparing my chambers. But the last time I slept in a castle, I was almost murdered the following afternoon,” Sho said. “You’d forgive me for taking precautions.”  
  
“Precautions,” Iseya said, amused. “The entire fortress knows.”  
  
“Yes, I imagine it made quite the gossip,” Sho said, not paying attention to Jun looking the other way. “What news from the capital?”  
  
“The details of your ascension have been finalized. They intend to do it with triple securities now that Saiph has declared war,” Iseya said. “They want you to return as soon as you can, and preferably with all the men here.”  
  
“We don’t have enough ships,” Sho said. “Unless my mother will send the flagship to me, I can’t bring my army there at once. My plan is to send half of them today, and the other half will travel with me tomorrow.”  
  
Iseya considered it. “I’ll inform the Empress’ herald. There’s a private transmission waiting for you. From the Empress.”  
  
“Urgent?” Sho asked.  
  
“It’s not labeled as such,” Iseya said. “I can retrieve your pad for you if you like.”  
  
“No,” Sho said. “I’ll have one of the attendants get it when I’m done eating. Thank you.”  
  
“I’ll go send that transmission,” Iseya said. “Unless you still need me for anything?”  
  
Sho shook his head. “Dismissed.”  
  
Iseya left, and they ate in silence. Jun couldn’t convince Sho to talk to him; he was no longer supposed to know these things if he was leaving.  
  
“Are you done?” Sho asked after a moment.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth.  
  
“Fetch Ninomiya,” Sho said, “and return at once.”  
  
Jun left the hall and strode out to the courtyard, ignoring the leers he was receiving. Some clapped him on the back when he passed too close to them, others nodded and winked at him.  
  
He found Nino with Aiba, the two of them hunched over Ohno’s speeder. He cleared his throat to make his presence known, and when they turned, they looked at each other first before grinning at Jun.  
  
“Jun-kun,” Nino said, his voice airy. His smile had a lot of meanings, Jun thought. “Where’s the princeling?”  
  
“He sent me to get you,” said Jun.  
  
Nino’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t swindle any of his men. I won their money fair and square in last night’s game of chess.”  
  
“I’m amazed you know what fair and square means,” Aiba said. “You pulled a move I wasn’t expecting.”  
  
Jun didn’t understand what they had meant, but then again, he hadn’t stayed long enough nor took part extensively in the celebrations last night. “He didn’t tell me anything. He just sent me.”  
  
“Not my fault you weren’t watching your queen,” Nino said to Aiba. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and stood, giving Jun a nod. “All right. Lead the way.”  
  
Jun did, but not before he saw Nino shooting Aiba a salute. They walked side-by-side, and they were inside the keep when Nino opened his mouth.  
  
“So,” was all Nino said.  
  
“So,” Jun parroted back.  
  
“You know whose reaction was my favorite after that guy Yokoyama told Kazama who told Aiba, and eventually everyone?” Nino asked with a grin.  
  
Jun wondered if he should indulge him. “Whose?”  
  
“Oh-chan,” Nino said.  
  
Jun frowned. “Who?”  
  
“The captain.”  
  
“Oh. You call him that?” He paused. “Of course you do.”  
  
“He was picking his nose when he heard. With the other hand of course; I can’t imagine him inserting the metal finger into his nose,” Nino said. “He stopped in the middle of his nose-picking and asked Aiba-shi, ‘Are they naked?’”  
  
Jun sighed and shook his head, walking faster. He heard Nino laugh as Nino jogged a bit to catch up with him.  
  
“So then Aiba asked Kazama who asked Yokoyama, and the guy said you were,” Nino told him.  
  
“I wasn’t,” Jun said before he could help it. “I had my trousers on.”  
  
Nino cackled, the kind that had his mouth wide open and face scrunched. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t surprised. I don’t think Oh-chan was, either. Only Aiba and Kazama and perhaps Ikuta had hilarious reactions a while ago.”  
  
Jun didn’t reply anymore since they reached the banquet hall, and he found the table cleared and Sho holding a pad. Sho didn’t look up when they approached, and only addressed Nino when he spoke.  
  
“Ninomiya,” Sho said, facing him.  
  
“Princeling,” Nino greeted pleasantly. He attempted to courtesy, but he exaggerated his movements too much that Jun knew it was all intentional.  
  
Sho didn’t appear to mind. “You’ve proven to be an irreplaceable member of my army these past few weeks. Many of the ships returned thanks to the modifications you’ve done to them.”  
  
Nino shrugged. “Are you going to pay me? That’s the only compensation I want, if that’s what I’m here for. Otherwise, I’ll just get going because your captain wants me to do something about the thrusters of his speeder.”  
  
Sho hummed. “Perhaps you can consider this as payment then,” he said. “You have family in Alnitak, yes?”  
  
Jun caught Nino’s expression faltering for a moment before he was able to slip back into his default cockiness. He didn’t miss the glance Nino threw his way. “You can’t hold them ransom for my crimes. They don’t even know what I’m doing with my life.”  
  
“I’m not going to hold them ransom,” Sho said. “Whatever you did, how many people you’ve wronged, that’s all on you. As a reward for your service, if you wish it, you can have a ship and see them.”  
  
Nino’s eyes went wide. “You’re not serious.”  
  
“You will have the necessary permits,” Sho continued. “Iseya-kun will provide them once I ask. You will masquerade as a trader since Alnitak is still under Saiph’s protection. I will provide all credentials and documents you need. How you convince the officials patrolling the planet will be entirely up to your skills, of course.”  
  
Nino looked at Jun, and Jun simply nodded.  
  
“You’re letting me go?” Nino asked when he faced Sho once more.  
  
“Essentially, yes,” Sho said. “It’s not absolute freedom given your inclinations before you arrived here, but it’s your only chance of going home. The offer expires once you leave this hall.”  
  
“I didn’t kill that councilman,” Nino said.  
  
“No,” Sho agreed. “But you brought back more than half of my men and their ships, including my own.” He didn’t need to say it, but Jun knew what Sho meant to say.  
  
You brought him back to me.  
  
The look on Nino’s face told Jun Nino had understood it as well.  
  
“Any ship I want?” Nino asked.  
  
Sho nodded. “Except mine and perhaps Satoshi-kun’s, but if you can convince him, why not?”  
  
“I want the fastest,” Nino said. He seemed a bit overwhelmed, face contorting in a myriad of expressions. “I—”  
  
“Don’t thank me,” Sho said.  
  
“I know,” Nino told him. To Jun: “You kept your word. I can’t believe it. But you did it.”  
  
Jun couldn’t help smiling. He’d done something for someone as he’d promised. It was a good feeling to have. “Say hello to your nieces and nephews for me.”  
  
“You may leave after I do,” Sho said. “I return to Sheratan tomorrow, and by then, you are free.” He typed something in his pad and said, “Find Iseya-kun. He would have received a message just now, informing him of what to do.”  
  
Nino nodded and moved to leave, but he halted in his steps when he stood by the door.  
  
“I know this means nothing since I’m not really a Hamali,” Nino said to Sho, who looked at him curiously, “but I hope your reign may be blessed and last for years. Truly.”  
  
“Should you wish to return to Hamal, you may,” Sho said. “And not in a handler ship this time.”  
  
That made Nino smile, and he did a formal bow for the first and the last time. “Long live the Emperor.”  
  
He departed then, and Jun waited until Nino was completely out of sight.  
  
“Do you have the same plans for me?” he asked quietly.  
  
Sho didn’t look at him. “Actually, I may have something a little different for you.” He tinkered with his pad and a hologram of a satellite floated between them. “Have you heard of Mesartim?”  
  
Jun squared his jaw before he nodded. “Yes.” It was the moon that had the mining station his father had claimed, the one that Sho had told him the truth about.  
  
“I have a favor to ask,” Sho said. “I would send Satoshi-kun or Aiba-chan, but my mother has insisted in her transmission that she wanted them by my side. You can refuse, of course. By tomorrow you are free, and this is the only time you will hear about this from me.”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “What do you need?” He could do this. One last favor from Sho.  
  
“A satellite survey,” Sho said. “I have a contact there in the mining station.” He flicked his finger over the hologram and it zoomed to the spot he mentioned, indicated by a blinking red dot. “I’d love to meet him personally, but his timing is rather off. I need you to listen to what he has to say and send a transmission of it to Iseya-kun. Then you can go.”  
  
Sho’s civility was something Jun had expected, but that didn’t lessen the ache. Still, he barrelled through it. He had to go. He’d do this one last thing, go back to Saiph, find his old allies. He still had a name. Names could be powerful if you possess the status.  
  
“All right,” he said.  
  
“Then you’re dismissed,” Sho said. “If I have any more orders, I’ll send for you. In the meantime, head to the courtyard and find a ship that you can use.”  
  
Sho turned away, focusing on his pad once more, and Jun took it as his cue to leave. Each step felt heavier than usual, and Jun resisted the pull of looking back. Perhaps they’d still have time, later, before Sho had to go.  
  
He went to the courtyard to find Kazama, who reddened when Jun talked to him about a ship. Jun ignored the knowing smiles Kazama’s men had on their faces and waited for Kazama to recollect himself.  
  
“Nino asked for the fastest,” Kazama said after a moment. “Do you have any specifications for your ship?”  
  
Jun shrugged. “As long as it’s not as dilapidated as the one I used when I came here, it should be fine.”  
  
“We parked the functional ships in the outer ward,” Kazama said, pointing past the gates. “Take your pick and inform me.”  
  
Jun nodded and headed off, but he stopped over Okada’s tent first. The man’s eyebrows lifted in welcome, then his face broke to a grin.  
  
“I heard he let you and Ninomiya go,” Okada said.  
  
“Word travels very fast in this camp,” Jun said.  
  
“He keeps us informed,” Okada said. “Whoever needs to know, that is. I keep a list of people in here, just to have an idea about my possible patients. Well? What do you need?” Okada was leaning against one of the biobeds where a soldier lay, his legs wrapped in casts. He appeared to be asleep.  
  
“Nothing,” Jun said. “I just came to say goodbye.”  
  
Okada seemed surprised, frowning as a reaction. “That was my job, you know.”  
  
“Regardless,” Jun said, “you still helped me that time, back when I was too stubborn to acknowledge my limits. Thank you.”  
  
Okada snorted in amusement. “You’re still stubborn, Matsumoto. Safe travels, and may the stars shine upon you.”  
  
“And you,” Jun said, inclining his head before taking his leave.  
  
\--  
  
Jun received a briefing of his last mission from Sho once he had a ship. It was sent to the ship’s log and Jun reviewed it while overseeing the ship refuel. The afternoon passed quickly, and by nighttime, Sho held a final feast. Lucida Ventris would be empty come morning; even the fortress commandant Iseya was required to be present in Sheratan for Sho’s ascension.  
  
Jun remained by the sidelines, watching the Hamali celebrate their new emperor. The Denebian queen, Ryoko, had asked her general to congratulate Sho on her behalf by giving him the good news: Denebia now had a new queen—Sho had fulfilled his end of the bargain.  
  
A clink against his cup surprised him, and Jun looked up just as Nino sat beside him. They watched the celebrations together in one corner, though Jun’s eyes gravitated towards Sho every now and then, who sat on a chair on top of the dais. His chin rested on his knuckles, and there was a soft smile on his face.  
  
“Heard you said goodbye to everyone,” Nino said.  
  
“Not everyone,” Jun said.  
  
In his periphery, he saw Nino grin. “Well, it’s not too late. He leaves tomorrow and so do we. But there’s still a couple of hours left.”  
  
“We don’t have time,” Jun said, looking up. Just beyond was Saiph—Rina, perhaps making war preparations. As they celebrated here, she was getting ready to invade them.  
  
Nino thankfully didn’t push the topic, instead taking a huge gulp out of his drink. “I’m going to miss this,” he said, raising his cup. “This is nothing compared to Alnitak wine, but it’s good enough.”  
  
Jun smiled. Nino would never admit that he’d miss his time in Hamal, but this was his way of saying it. “I’d miss it, too,” he found himself saying quietly. He’d never thought he would. When he’d gotten here, he’d wanted to leave immediately.  
  
He clasped Nino’s shoulder as he stood. “Alnitak’s a long way from here. I hope there’ll be peace when you make it home,” he said.  
  
Nino held his hand only for a moment. “Be seeing you,” Nino said.  
  
Jun didn’t know when that would happen, but he liked to believe it would.  
  
“Be seeing you,” he said back, and he walked away.  
  
\--  
  
He decided to use the time he had left to clean the ship he’d be using. Jun’s own room back in Saiph would’ve been messy had there were no attendants to take care of it in his stead, but any ships he’d used were kept in pristine condition. He never liked flying in a ship that was filthy. It didn’t befit a future king.  
  
He sifted through the garbage in the cargo hold, disposing of them in the incinerator once he’d had them segregated. A prince would never do such a thing, but he hadn’t been a prince in a while.  
  
After, he washed his hands and grabbed a broom and started to sweep.  
  
“This was Toma’s,” a voice said behind him. He didn’t have to look to check who it was.  
  
“Was it?” Jun asked. He didn’t know whose ship he’d gotten, but that would explain the eyebrow quirk he’d received from Ikuta when he’d said goodbye.  
  
Sho hummed, and he seemed amused. Perhaps the night’s celebrations had made his mood lighter. “I can’t believe he parted with it, is all.”  
  
“And you?” Jun asked, setting aside the broom and turning around to face Sho. He looked like an emperor with his fine clothes and easygoing smile. His people would adore him.  
  
“You mean did I come here to part with you?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun schooled his features to reveal nothing and didn’t say a word.  
  
“Yes,” Sho said. “That’s what I’m here for.”  
  
Jun stepped forward, and when he was about a pace away from Sho, he unpinned the badge from his chest and held it in his palm. He offered it to Sho, who looked at it with a soft smile on his face.  
  
“I wish—” Jun started, but he couldn’t finish. He found himself wishing for many things. He wished for peace, for the war to never happen, for his plan to work despite its uncertainty. He wished their ancestors hadn’t allowed the disdain to build up through the years to the point it’d become part of their history.  
  
Sho regarded him and said, “As emperor, I can grant a few wishes.”  
  
That won Jun’s smile, and he said, “But not the ones I have in mind.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said. “Tell me anyway.”  
  
“I wish our planets aren’t at war,” Jun said. “I wish I didn’t grow up hating you and your people. I wish—” he paused, letting out a tiny laugh, “—we met under different circumstances.”  
  
“Different,” Sho repeated. “How different?”  
  
“I could’ve been a suitor,” he said before he could ponder on it.  
  
Sho grinned, hand closing over his on top of the badge. “I turned down all of my suitors.”  
  
“I know,” Jun said, remembering. “I heard about it from Ikuta. Months ago.”  
  
“I would have done the same to you,” Sho said. “Even if, hypothetically, our planets weren’t so keen to fight each other. Had you been a suitor, I wouldn’t be…”  
  
He trailed off, and Jun said for him, “Attracted to me?”  
  
Crown Prince Jun had never courted anyone before. But then again, he’d never found anyone worth crossing the galaxy for. No one had captured his attention that long.  
  
Sho met his eyes. “Drawn to you,” he finished.  
  
Jun felt Sho let go, but he pulled him back, grasping his hand tight. “I intend to keep my promise. About preventing this, all of this. I’ll do whatever I can. And should there be peace, I—”  
  
Sho’s fingers rested on his mouth, stopping whatever he had to say. “I meant what I said. When this is all over, should you find your way back here—to me—, you’ll have a place to stay.” Sho gave him a sad smile. “I know I’ll never see you again. But if there’s any chance it’ll be possible one day, maybe you can visit me in the Hamali court.”  
  
“To share your table as a guest?” Jun asked once Sho’s hand fell away.  
  
“To court me,” Sho said. He took the badge from Jun and withdrew completely. “Maybe.”  
  
Jun ached at the loss of contact, but there was nothing he could do. Except, perhaps…  
  
“I have a wish I think you can grant,” he said.  
  
Sho stared at him, waiting.  
  
“Let’s take a speeder,” he said.  
  
Sho’s surprise lasted only for a few seconds. “They’ll notice we’re gone.”  
  
“They already noticed you’re gone and they all know where you are,” Jun said. The entire fortress knows, Iseya had told them. “You’re not saying no.”  
  
“No, I’m not,” Sho said. “Shall we take Ohno’s? I heard Yoko refueled it after Ninomiya had it fixed.”  
  
Jun smiled, already heading for the doors. “I’ll see you in the hatch in five minutes, then.”  
  
“Don’t keep me waiting,” Sho said, and Jun turned to go.  
  
\--  
  
They reached a hill just as the clouds above had parted to reveal a blue moon. It was a rare occurrence, Sho explained, and the Hamali believed it meant a good omen.  
  
“Your reign will last for years,” Jun said.  
  
“For Denebia, yes, it will,” Sho said.  
  
They were lying on the grass and watching the sky, and Jun tried to commit to memory all the unfamiliar constellations. Had the stars burned so brightly before? He couldn’t remember ever taking the time to observe them like this.  
  
“She won’t know you’re her father,” Jun said.  
  
“All the better, I suppose,” Sho said. “That way, Denebia can’t claim the Hamali throne.” Sho shifted beside him and pointed ahead. “Do you see that? The one that looks like a pitcher?” He traced the air with his finger.  
  
“When I was a boy, the nurse that took care of me told me that a sky goddess held a pitcher full of stars,” Sho said. “When there are meteor showers, it means that the pitcher overflowed and some of its contents spilled.”  
  
“Why does she have a pitcher?” Jun asked curiously.  
  
“It’s a myth,” Sho said, and Jun could tell he was rolling his eyes. “They’re not supposed to explain everything—just certain things that look beautiful.”  
  
Jun laughed. “All right. And?”  
  
“I was perhaps nine or ten when she told me that story,” Sho said. “But at the time, I already knew that stars die. So I asked her, ‘what happens to the pitcher when the stars die?’ And she told me, ‘in a few years, it’ll be filled once more. What once was will return in one way or another.’” Sho exhaled. “I never forgot that. I suppose that explains why a part of me still believes.”  
  
“Believes in what?” Jun asked, his eyes fixed on the constellation Sho had pointed out to him.  
  
“That you’ll find you way back,” Sho muttered quietly. Jun faced him, and Sho wasn’t looking at him. “Isn’t that stupid? I know what I said and I know it’s true: I’ll never see you again. And yet…”  
  
He smiled sadly and didn’t continue.  
  
Jun turned to his side and reached out to cup Sho’s cheek, tilting it to face him. He scooted closer, until he was breathing in Sho’s space. “Tell me I can still do this.”  
  
“You don’t need permission for this,” Sho said, leaning to his touch.  
  
“Yes I do,” Jun said. “I need to know that you want it.”  
  
“I do want it,” Sho told him, eyes on his. “I think I’ll want it even after you’re gone. I think I’ll want it more when tomorrow comes.” What he said next came out as a whisper, his eyelids fluttering shut. “I think I’ll always.”  
  
Jun bridged the gap, sighing against Sho’s mouth. Their time would never be enough. They only had now, and it was a stolen moment. Jun knew he’d taken Sho away from something, perhaps a duty befitting the emperor he was about to become. But they had mere hours left, and Jun wanted to make the most of it.  
  
He’d never get another chance.  
  
Sho returned the kiss with the same passion, a hand fisting on Jun’s tunic to have him closer. Jun placed his hand on top of Sho’s and lay back, tugging Sho on top of him, giving him everything. One of Sho’s hands slipped under the back of his neck, acting as support, and Jun locked his fingers around Sho’s back to keep him in place.  
  
It was dangerous, what they were doing. They were a bit far from the fortress and atop a hill, and anyone could venture out in search for Sho and find him like this, but Jun could tell neither of them cared. For him, he wanted them all to know.  
  
He scattered kisses all over Sho’s face once they’d parted, hoping that Sho would at least remember this. He knew he would. He’d never forget this night and the night before it, as well as everything Sho had told him.  
  
“It’s the same for me,” he whispered between them, pressing his forehead against Sho’s. “I think no matter where I go, there’ll always be a part of me that would want to return here.”  
  
To you.  
  
“Tomorrow,” Sho said, lips brushing against his, “when you leave, do it before me. I need to see you go. Once you leave, that’s the only way I can be ready.”  
  
Jun felt a constriction somewhere in his chest. “If I could, I’d—”  
  
“No,” Sho said over him, kissing him silent. “Don’t say it. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”  
  
“You don’t even know what I was about to say,” Jun muttered, giving in to another kiss. It tasted bittersweet.  
  
“I think I do,” Sho said. “I think we both do.”  
  
Jun moved to plant one last kiss on Sho’s forehead, and Sho slotted his face in the junction formed by his neck and shoulder. Jun held him like that, like they had all the time they could ever need.  
  
Sho pinched a portion of his tunic and began twisting the material between his fingers. For a while neither of them said anything, content to bask in the warmth they were generating together.  
  
“How long before they start looking for you?” Jun asked quietly, his fingers tangled in Sho’s hair.  
  
“They know I’m with you,” Sho said, breath tickling Jun’s neck. “You’re still my bodyguard tonight even if you already returned the badge to me. They won’t look for me.”  
  
“In my planet, bodyguards don’t do this,” Jun said with a smile.  
  
“That’s how it is in my planet too,” Sho told him. “Why, do you think I did this with Nagase-kun? Don’t be absurd.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, laughing. It felt good to laugh. It eased a bit of whatever heavy feeling he had inside him. “I never thought that way, don’t worry.”  
  
“You were never good at following orders anyway. You’re only a bodyguard by title.”  
  
“I’m still part of your subjects. I don’t suppose subjects get to do this with their emperors?”  
  
“You’re not a Hamali,” Sho said. “I’m not your emperor.”  
  
Jun smiled. “Fair enough.”  
  
“But since I am emperor, I can have whatever I want, yes?” Sho asked, and Jun could feel his grin against his neck.  
  
“Then tonight,” Jun offered sincerely, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”  
  
Sho was silent for a few beats, and then: “Stay with me for the next hour.”  
  
“All right.” Jun wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny him this.  
  
“And the next,” Sho said. “At least until dawn. Just like this.”  
  
Jun kissed his hair and said, “As you wish.”  
  
They lay there together as the stars twinkled overhead.  
  
\--  
  
The sky was close to purple by the time they returned to the fortress. Once inside the gates and off the speeder, Sho gave him a cool look and said, “I’ve informed my contact in Mesartim that I’m sending someone I trust in my stead. I expect your transmission to be in Iseya-kun’s hands as soon as possible.”  
  
“You’ll have it,” Jun said.  
  
They shared one look and Sho said, “Thank you for your service. I wish you a safe travel and may the stars shine upon you.”  
  
“And you,” Jun muttered quietly, but he was certain Sho had heard it. He moved the speeder to where Ohno would likely see it and didn’t look back, instead climbing up the ship he’d claimed for himself and closing the hatch behind him.  
  
Outside, he could tell the fortress was waking. He was in the bridge and strapped to the chair by the time he hailed the communications tower.  
  
“You’re clear for take off,” they said back to him after a few moments, and Jun released the parking brake and switched on the thrusters.  
  
He detached himself from what he was feeling and focused on making a smooth exit once the gates were opened. He knew that somewhere down there, Sho was watching.  
  
“Goodbye,” Jun whispered to no one as soon as he was out of the gates.  
  
He looked straight ahead, towards the skies that would soon become dotted with stars. He had nowhere else to look but forward, where his fate lay just beyond.  
  
He opened the ship’s log and found the coordinates for the meeting site at Mesartim and input them in the navigation console. He didn’t have Nino’s skills so his ETA was at more than a day in hyperspace, but it was better than nothing. He made the jump and left the ship on autopilot, going back to the navigation system once more.  
  
In his lonesome, his thoughts retreated back to what had happened hours before. They hadn’t slept, afraid they’d both wake up in the morning. Instead he’d asked Sho to tell him stories about the constellations, in the same way Sho had talked to him about the territory that last time they’d had indulged themselves.  
  
Jun reached out and touched the part of the navigation map that stood for Hamal. It hadn’t been his home, but it was home to friends, to comrades he’d fought a war with, and to a man he’d won a duel for. Despite the beliefs he’d had since he was a child, he knew he’d fight with every fiber of his being just to prevent the war that was about to happen.  
  
Wait for me, he thought, eyes fixed on where his fingers touched the screen.  
  
I’ll find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't tag rimming, but there is rimming happening somewhere in this.
> 
> I reread the work that inspired this fic (C.S. Pacat's Captive Prince), and I realized that the line "Nothing you don't want," is an actual thing the main character in there has said. Credit where it's due: it was an unintentional rip-off. I failed to catch this during the writing process, and for that, I'm sorry. The line belongs to Pacat.
> 
> The new Arashi album was just recently released, and one of the songs, Sugar, reminded me of a particular scene in this fic because of these lines:
> 
>  
> 
> _Just forget about tomorrow for now_  
>  _That's right, all we know is that today will soon end_  
>  _"Someday, the two of us will become stardust, too"_  
>  _Leave that kind of sweet talk up to the sun and moon_  
>  _And just look at me_
> 
>  
> 
> Translation can be found [here](https://otsukarepandas.livejournal.com/7564.html).


	9. Chapter 9

Mesartim felt like an incinerator instead of a satellite, its vents making Jun sweat profusely in his jacket. It was a moon that had coal mines that had been operating for centuries under Hamal’s jurisdiction until Saiph had claimed it for herself. Jun had landed on a secluded spot, a couple of miles away from the nearest mining station as indicated by Sho’s unnamed contact, and he stood a couple of feet away from his ship, waiting.  
  
He’d brought a phaser just in case, keeping it hidden inside his jacket. Its grip poked his rib but he’d grown used to it. An incinerator burned brightly in the distance, and everywhere Jun looked was orange because of the flames.  
  
It had to be nearly half an hour by the time he’d seen figures past the fumes. There was certainly more than one man, but the smoke made it impossible to count how many there were. Jun drew his phaser and set it to stun, and he moved to press himself against a huge chunk of granite as he waited.  
  
The footsteps turned louder as the soles of boots buried themselves in volcanic sand. Mesartim was a burning satellite possessing an active volcano at its center. In the Old World, it would have been called a literal hell.  
  
“We see your ship, Hamali. State your business,” one man called out in the common tongue.  
  
“I’m not a Hamali,” Jun declared. “But I was sent by their emperor. He told me he’d promised to meet someone here.”  
  
“And where is he?” the voice asked.  
  
“Getting his crown,” Jun said. “That’s why I’m here. What are you here for?”  
  
The vent close to him blew off a gush of hot steam, and Jun almost choked at the sticky feeling it left. He understood now why Mesartim had been a safe meeting spot despite it being Saiphan territory. No one could stay out here for long. The atmosphere was thin on the surface, and Jun estimated he could only last for another hour at most.  
  
His hour was beginning to run out.  
  
“He told me there will be something for me here, that I didn’t have to land on the moon but merely survey it,” the man said. “Then his words changed when I arrived here, promising to meet me in the flesh as soon as he dealt with something urgent. And now you tell me he broke his oath.”  
  
“The urgency hasn’t left him,” Jun said. He needed to conclude his business here, fast. “What do you have for him?”  
  
“That depends. What does he have for me? Aside from a messenger who won’t show his face?”  
  
“How do I know you won’t shoot me once I come out?” Jun asked.  
  
“Come out, then you’ll know,” the voice told him.  
  
Jun let out a breath and steeled himself, gripping his phaser tight. If this was a trap, he was outnumbered. But Sho wouldn’t do such a thing. He wouldn’t have sent Jun somewhere dangerous. If threat was imminent, they’d be here together.  
  
He waited for the vent close to them to blow another gush of scorching steam before he stepped out, and he saw four men watching as the geyser shot a stream of concentrated vapor into the sky. He stood there, waiting for the vent to release all the pressure it had contained, and when it did, his breathing stopped.  
  
He lowered his phaser unconsciously, hand trembling around its grip. The smoke cleared little by little, and Jun’s knees felt weak.  
  
“No,” the man said in shock, his eyes wide. The other three men with him had their jaws hanging open. “You’re dead.”  
  
“I’m not,” Jun said shakily. “I thought you’re all dead.”  
  
The man took steps forward, his gait staggering as his weapon dropped to the sand. “All this time, I—we believed you were. We searched for you as far as the outer rim.” The man fell on his knees, and Jun saw him clenching his hands into fists. “Is it really you? Jun?”  
  
“Shun,” Jun said, and Shun lowered his head, forehead nearly touching the ground. The other men hastily did the same, knees hitting the sand.  
  
“Your Highness,” Shun said, and Jun could hear the emotion in his voice. “The Prince’s Guard is at your service.”  
  
“Captain,” Jun said, and it was sheer willpower that had him standing still. “Rise.”  
  
Shun did, and Jun noticed he still wore his badge. The same one he’d pinned there himself when he’d named Shun successor to the former captain. They’d trained together under Shun’s father, and when Shun had proven himself to be a better warrior than Jun could possibly be, Jun had known he’d be the right choice.  
  
Jun hadn’t seen Shun that day when he’d been imprisoned. What he’d seen of his men were those who’d defected to Rina, but Shun hadn’t been there. Jun had thought he’d died.  
  
“How many men do you have?” Jun asked, his voice still not as stable as he’d intended.  
  
“Whatever’s left of the Prince’s Guard—thirty. They imprisoned after we’ve heard what happened to you, beat us, tortured us. We were set for an execution, but I escaped,” Shun said. “Then I set the rest of the men free and we ran. We’ve been on the run ever since, but we tried looking for you even if we knew it was unlikely that we’d find you.”  
  
“How did you escape?” Jun asked.  
  
Shun smiled, and Jun was filled with nostalgia. This was the first person he’d seen from home in months. “How did we enter the royal treasury despite all the security measures they enabled to keep us out?”  
  
Jun found himself laughing over a fond memory. They had been children then, curious little boys who’d gotten reprimanded when caught. “Old habits,” he said.  
  
Shun looked past him, his eyes on the Hamali ship that was parked behind Jun. He seemed to have pieced things together, and when he met Jun’s eyes once more, he said in disbelief, “How did you survive?”  
  
“We have many things to talk about,” Jun said. “But we need to get out of here. Let’s find one of the usual spots and meet there.”  
  
Shun smiled knowingly. They’d been to trips around the galaxy more than once. As Captain of the Prince’s Guard, Shun had been his companion more than once. Shun had seen him drunk, had seen him crawling his way to his bed since he’d been old enough to partake in liquor.  
  
“The belt is close,” Shun said. “We wouldn’t be seen there; Saiphan ships avoid the belt because of solar storms. There should be an asteroid large enough to hide thirty ships.”  
  
“Thirty-one,” Jun said. He had plans to return the ship to Ikuta whenever he could.  
  
“Your Highness, I can’t let you travel alone,” Shun said.  
  
“A lot of things have changed since we last saw each other, Captain,” Jun said. “But if you still treat me as your Prince, then you’ll do as your Prince commands.”  
  
They stared at one another, and Jun refused to waver. Shun eventually tilted his head in acceptance.  
  
“Of course,” Shun said. “However, I must insist on your safety. We’ve only just gotten you back.”  
  
“I will not disappear,” Jun said. “Not again. Let’s meet in the belt. That should only be five minutes of hyperspace jump. Then we’ll talk.”  
  
Shun put a fist over his heart, right where the badge was pinned. Jun saw the rest do the same—he remembered their faces, their names, their stories. He’d appointed them himself.  
  
“It will be done as the Prince commands,” Shun said, and it was the first familiar thing Jun had heard in such a long time.  
  
\--  
  
The asteroid they found was an old settlement for a terraforming colony. They’d built atmosphere towers and hadn’t taken the time to dismantle them as they’d left, and Jun stood inside the abandoned facilities as Shun and his men worked on repairing the heaters. They intended to spent the night here and talk about many things—past, present, and future.  
  
Shun had ordered his men to set up camp for the night while he and Jun proceeded inside Ikuta’s ship. It was the only private place for the talk they were about to have, and Jun would rather not have everyone hear everything. So many things had happened.  
  
They replicated Hamali rum and Shun frowned when he caught a whiff of the drink.  
  
“You get used to it,” Jun told him, partaking already.  
  
“This is strong,” Shun said, face wincing after he’d gulped the contents of his glass down.  
  
“Which means you’re bound to like it,” Jun said. They shared a laugh.  
  
“What happened to you, Jun? Rina announced to the entire planet that you had gone missing, and all of us who knew the truth and got away thought that meant she had you killed,” Shun said.  
  
“The same way she murdered our father,” Jun said.  
  
Shun shut his eyes. “There was no way to prevent that. No one saw it coming.”  
  
“Did she at least give him a decent funeral?” Jun asked.  
  
“We didn’t stay that long; we weren’t safe. But I heard she had him interred in the family tomb.” Shun clasped his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry. He was a good king. The people mourned his loss—we all did. He treated me like a son. May the stars watch over his soul.”  
  
Jun exhaled slowly. He’d never had the chance to talk about his father’s death to anyone before, and he could feel the corners of his eyes burn. Shun didn’t comment on it, instead taking the initiative to refill their glasses.  
  
“I never got to mourn him,” Jun admitted, a tear escaping and running down his cheek. “It all happened so fast, and this is the first time I got to process that he’s really gone.” He wiped at the side of his face. “And Rina’s mother?”  
  
“She is queen dowager,” Shun said.  
  
From Shun’s tone, Jun picked up that he was hiding something. “Tell me,” he said.  
  
“Jun.”  
  
“That’s an order.”  
  
“She wears your mother’s crown,” Shun said. He looked pained as he uttered the words. “And Rina wears your father’s. Together, they rule the planet.”  
  
Jun couldn’t suppress the rage that washed over him. “And together, they conspired to murder my father and to remove me from the throne. I’ll never forgive them. Their biggest mistake was not killing me when they should have.”  
  
“They sent you to Hamal to die,” Shun said. “Anyone can see that. But you didn’t. How is that possible? Their Emperor Apparent would have you executed on sight because of who you are.”  
  
The sting Jun felt in his ribcage made him finish half of his drink. “I should have died. When I was in that handler’s ship, I thought I was going to die. Rina didn’t even bother, you see. She falsified my records, made me a common man charged with treason, but she didn’t change my name.”  
  
He saw Shun go very still at that, and he nodded. “The name alone should have done the trick. But it didn’t. Until now, I don’t know how that happened.”  
  
Shun appeared thoughtful. “Your father took care not to allow Hamal to possess any records that can identify you. He told my father about it and together, they had all the records encrypted and sealed. Your father feared you’d be assassinated and he’d lose his son and only heir since Rina had already abdicated by then.”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, “but I saw him studying a blueprint of our planet’s gates when I first met him. He‘s found a way to access the records, somehow.”  
  
Shun frowned. “Him?” Then his eyes widened. “No.”  
  
Jun didn’t say anything, only taking a sip of his drink.  
  
“She sent you to the Emperor Apparent of Hamal?!” Shun asked incredulously.  
  
“Emperor,” Jun corrected. By this time, Sho was having his first hours as Emperor of Hamal.  
  
Shun shook his head, and Jun could see the horror and regret in his expression.  
  
“You couldn’t have prevented it,” Jun told him. “Before they took me, I think they took you first. You think you were taken after, but that’s what they made you believe. The wiser move would have been to first imprison you and everyone who’s loyal to me. That way, they’d be successful with their plan.” Jun clinked their glasses together despite being mostly empty. “We were both pawns. We knew nothing.”  
  
“I swore to protect you,” Shun said. “And I failed.”  
  
“But before you became my captain, you were first my friend,” Jun said. “If you succeeded in protecting me, you would have died. And I would have lost my captain and my friend. If anything, I’m glad you failed. It led us here.”  
  
That made Shun smile, and he said, “You still didn’t answer my question on how you survived.”  
  
“I played along,” Jun said in summary.  
  
Shun frowned. “You’re not good at that. No offense, Jun, but you’re used to people obeying whatever you command. Are you sure you played your part as well as you’re implying?”  
  
Jun punched Shun’s arm playfully, chuckling. “I’m here, aren’t I? That means it worked.” His voice softened when he added, “It worked too well, to the point I almost believed it and wished it was true.”  
  
He didn’t dare glance in Shun’s direction, afraid it would give everything away.  
  
Then, Shun said quietly, “Tell me.”  
  
And Jun did.  
  
\--  
  
The hour was late by the time he’d finished talking. He’d told Shun about Nino, Aiba’s sentry, his altercation with Yoko, about Okada, about his time in Ohno’s division. He’d talked about Sheratan, Denebia, and Lucida Ventris, until finally, Mesartim.  
  
When Shun spoke, there was no judgment in his tone. “Alnitak, you said?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said.  
  
“Did you feel responsible for him? Is that why you had to see him home?”  
  
“Had I been king, he would have been part of my people,” Jun said. “My responsibility. He looked out for me when he could, and I thought it should be me who was doing that. I’ll never be king, but at least I managed to do something for someone who would have been part of my constituents.”  
  
“And the Hamali emperor allowed that?” Shun asked.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Shun studied him, and because of the alcohol they’d both imbibed, Jun knew he could no longer hide things efficiently.  
  
“You didn’t tell me everything,” Shun said knowingly.  
  
Jun looked away. He’d left out what had happened after they’d won the war.  
  
“I’ve heard stories about the Emperor,” Shun said, and Jun knew there was no escaping this talk. “Mostly from your father because I don’t believe in hearsay unless it’s from someone I trust. Your father claimed he wasn’t very likeable.”  
  
“He wasn’t,” Jun acknowledged.  
  
He heard Shun sigh. “Oh Jun,” Shun said with a laugh. He sounded simultaneously amused and fond. “I know you. You love a challenge. You love the thrill it gives you because it gets you going. The drive is hard to resist for you, and when someone poses a challenge, instead of giving up on them, the more they grab your attention. Tell me, did you hate him?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun hissed, and Shun laughed.  
  
“How long?”  
  
“Months,” Jun said. “I spent almost all of the months in exile hating him. Are you happy now?”  
  
“No,” Shun said, “because I don’t know everything yet. You always liked the unattainable. The harder they are to get, the more you think they’re worth your time. But you haven’t really found someone like that, have you?”  
  
“You would know,” Jun said.  
  
“Of course,” Shun said, “that’s why I married Yu.”  
  
“How is she?” Jun asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”  
  
“They’re safe. Yu has a sister that lives in Cygni. They’re all there, including my children, dyeing fabric that can be exported since it’s the family business. I left to look for you despite their insistence in talking me out of it.” Shun gave him a look. “But don’t make this about me. You’re leaving details out.”  
  
“You’re not asking the right questions,” Jun said, giving Shun a glare despite knowing it wouldn’t work.  
  
“How did it happen?” Shun asked.  
  
“Unexpectedly,” Jun found himself saying, then he thought about it. “No, not quite. Inevitably, I suppose. He’s not...what father made me believe.”  
  
“How was he then?” Shun asked softly.  
  
“Alone,” Jun said, and the thought made him hurt. He should be there on Sho’s side. “Fighting a war that he can’t win.” He looked at Shun seriously, and he knew he couldn’t hide the dread he felt. “Rina’s coming for him.”  
  
Jun couldn’t let that happen. He’d seen Hamal, had lived in it. He’d seen the gravity of Sho’s love for it. Sho, Jun knew, would die fighting for his planet, for his people and their independence. He’d choose to do so than surrender, even if they didn’t stand a chance against the Saiphan army.  
  
“Jun,” Shun said, facing him, “if we wait this out, you’ll have fewer people to fight. Hamal will unite under her emperor and they will choose war than give up their planet. When that happens, Rina will fight. She will not lose, but there will still be a decrease in her army’s numbers. When that happens, we can rally the people to your cause.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, shaking his head fiercely. It was unthinkable. “I do that, and I abandon him. I will not.” He met Shun’s gaze evenly. “I will never.”  
  
“You’ve always been loyal to a fault,” Shun said. “But think about it. You still have a claim. You are still the rightful heir; the abdication is only nullified when the named successor is dead. You’re not. Under Saiphan laws, you are her king.”  
  
“Then,” Jun said slowly, realization dawning on him, “if I am her king, I can put an end to all of this. It’s under the king’s powers to call off hostility.”  
  
“But Rina wears the crown,” Shun said.  
  
“Then we take the crown,” Jun said determinedly. “It’s rightfully mine, anyway.”  
  
“You know I will fight your wars and support you as long as I live,” Shun said. “But we don’t have an army. We have thirty men. We don’t stand a chance. We can’t storm the citadel with thirty men. Especially not now when it’s bound to be heavily guarded in preparation for the war against Hamal.”  
  
“I have a name,” Jun said. “You said it yourself: I am the rightful heir. All we have to do is to let Saiph know that their king is alive.”  
  
“And how will we do that?” Shun asked. “We’ve all been declared enemies of the crown—all thirty of us. We’re wanted dead, not alive. We can’t risk sneaking you into the planet. We’ll never get past the gates, and any transmission we attempt to send to those loyal to you will be intercepted.”  
  
“Then we don’t send the transmission to Saiph,” Jun said.  
  
Jun stood, and he beckoned for Shun to follow him. Despite being slightly inebriated, they managed to enter the bridge of the ship without bumping into anything.  
  
“I made him a promise,” Jun said, “that whatever happens in Mesartim, I will report it to his fortress commandant.” He input Iseya’s contact details and waited for the channel to patch through. He’d used a secure channel, one that wouldn’t be intercepted since it was also private. “I’m overdue.”  
  
They had to wait for almost a minute until Iseya’s face showed up. Jun enabled fullscreen, and he noticed Shun standing straighter behind him.  
  
“Matsumoto-kun,” Iseya greeted. “I was about to message you. His Majesty thinks it’s later than scheduled.”  
  
Majesty. So Sho was officially the Emperor of Hamal.  
  
Jun saw Shun react at the casual address, and he raised a finger to stop Shun. “Fortress commandant of Lucida Ventris, greetings.” He saw the shift in Iseya’s expression, a frown now on his face. “I’d like to request for a personal audience with Emperor Sho of Hamal, in his palace at Sheratan.”  
  
Iseya looked more contemplative than angry at Jun’s audacity, but his frown was yet to disappear. “On whose authority do you demand such?”  
  
“Mine,” Jun said confidently, in a voice he hadn’t used in months. It was surprisingly easier than he’d thought. “I am Crown Prince Matsumoto Jun, the rightful king of Saiph, and I think your emperor would like to hear what I have to say.”  
  
\--  
  
A couple of hours later, Jun only remembered a few details. Shun had to tell him the rest. Iseya had agreed to forward his request immediately, and they should expect a transmission within a few hours.  
  
“I saw his surprise when you told him who you are,” Shun said. “They really didn’t know.”  
  
Now that Jun was sober, he’d had the time to think about it. “I think he’s responsible for that. I’m not sure, but that’s what I believe.”  
  
“He? You mean the Emperor?”  
  
“Someone once told me his greatest weapon was his mind,” Jun said. “I think that’s why he sent me to Mesartim. He knew.”  
  
Jun had mixed feelings about that realization. But he’d never know the truth unless he talked to Sho in person, and that was what he had to do.  
  
“When I spoke to him in a live transmission, he never implied anything,” Shun said.  
  
“Wait,” Jun said, slowly remembering. “Live transmission?”  
  
“Yes,” Shun said.  
  
Denebia. The transmission Sho hadn’t told Jun about. He’d been speaking to Shun then.  
  
“He knew even before,” Jun found himself saying. He didn’t know how a laugh escaped from him. “What a fool I’ve been.” He turned to Shun and explained, “I was there when he was talking to you. That was in Denebia.”  
  
Shun didn’t appear too surprised. “He gave the impression of a clever man. Do you think he’ll agree to your request?”  
  
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Jun said. “It’s either me or Rina, and he won’t pick the person who sent her brother in the hands of the enemy.”  
  
“Is that the truth or is that what you’re hoping for?” Shun asked. “Jun, I don’t want to be the person who has to say this, but since there’s no one else, that leaves me no choice. Whatever time you spent together in Denebia and in Hamal, that’s over. You’re not the same man who left Hamal. You’re a king now, just like him. And you both have something to lose.”  
  
“I know,” Jun said, but that didn’t make thought much easier to bear. “I know Rina won’t hesitate to use me against him once she discovers what I have in mind. I know she’ll use him too if she could. I can’t let that happen.” It hurt, but it had to be done. “So she must never know. Everything I told you in the past couple of hours—nobody can know. What he is to me, what we were to one another.”  
  
“I will never betray you,” Shun said. “How many people in Hamal know?”  
  
Jun didn’t like what he was about to say. “An entire fortress.”  
  
Shun gawked at him.  
  
“We were seen,” was all Jun said.  
  
Shun was now pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, at least we know the Hamali won’t betray their emperor. And that it’s to their best interests that not everyone knows that their emperor’s been entangled with a Saiphan.” Shun sighed. “Of all people in the galaxy, Jun.”  
  
“You usually approve of my choices,” Jun said. “Especially regarding this sort of thing.”  
  
“Because those were from the days where you enjoyed your time in pleasure planetoids,” Shun said. “He’s an emperor.”  
  
“And I’m a king,” Jun said. “I don’t think he’ll refuse the idea of an alliance.”  
  
“Of course not,” Shun said. “Now that I know why he sent me to that moon, it’s impossible he’ll refuse.”  
  
“I didn’t know I’d find you in Mesartim,” Jun told him. Jun hadn’t predicted a lot of things. His plan had been simple but full of flaws—it was natural that Sho had come up with a better one.  
  
“But he did,” Shun said. “In a way, what you’re about to propose to him might have been his plan all along.”  
  
The channel beeped with an incoming transmission, and Jun saw it was from Hamal. He and Shun exchanged a look as he moved to open it. “We’ll find out soon.”  
  
\--  
  
When Jun had indulged himself and had imagined returning to Hamal, it wasn’t like this. He flew Ikuta’s ship and had thirty Saiphan fighter ships as his escort when he made the entry to the royal spacedock of Hamal. It wasn’t like the spaceport in the outskirts, old and almost abandoned until Sho had found use for it. This spaceport was grand, walls as white as the entire city of Sheratan. It was connected to the city via a bridge that boasted a view of the dark green seas, rising hundreds of feet above the ground. The wind that hit Jun’s face as he made the walk towards the palace nearly made him shiver.  
  
Sho had sent Ohno and Aiba to escort their entire party back, and the judgment in their eyes was something Jun couldn’t deny. They thought he’d used Sho to regain his power. They weren’t wrong, if only that had been Jun’s intention.  
  
Jun hadn’t intended for any of this to happen.  
  
He heard whispers from the common folk as they walked the streets. The last time Jun had set foot in this city, he’d done his best to avoid attention. Now the attention was all on him—only a week after the new emperor had assumed the throne, news of the supposed survival of the Crown Prince of Saiph had broken out.  
  
And now here he was, two weeks later, taking a diplomatic visit to Hamal in the flesh. They stared at him and whispered to one another—about how he looked, the lack of jewelry on his person, the simplicity of his clothes. Shun had managed to procure traditional Saiphan clothes for him to replace the Hamali ones he’d gotten accustomed to wearing, and they’d felt foreign on his skin as soon as he’d put them on.  
  
But this was who he was. Who he truly was.  
  
The palace gates opened upon their arrival, and Jun was greeted by Sho’s council, a woman standing a few paces ahead of them—Sho’s sister, from one look at her face. She looked just like her brother.  
  
“Your Majesty,” she said in greeting, in Jun’s language. Her accent was off, but her syllabication was perfect.  
  
The title sounded alien to Jun’s ears. “Your Highness,” he said in return.  
  
“This is Princess Mai, sister of the Emperor,” the herald beside them said, this time in Hamali. “Welcome to Hamal, Saiphan king. We’ve been expecting you.”  
  
“The Emperor’s household is gracious,” Jun said in Hamali. Their surprise at his pitch-perfect accent was palpable. He ignored it. “May he reign long.”  
  
“Come,” Mai said to him in Hamali, and Jun offered her his arm which she took. They walked, followed by council members and flanked by soldiers. “My brother’s waiting in court. He regrets not being able to welcome you personally, but he’s wanted everywhere.”  
  
“I’m certain,” Jun said, allowing her to lead him around. “My sister is coming any moment.”  
  
“Your sister?” Mai asked, and Jun could already see the similarities between siblings. Perhaps it was in the blood.  
  
“Half-sister,” Jun amended. “In Saiph, it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“It matters here,” Mai said.  
  
“Of course,” Jun said. Traditions, he reminded himself. “My apologies. Terminologies are not my strong suit.”  
  
“Now that won’t do,” Mai told him, stopping before closed doors. The court was just beyond, and Jun could tell because of the noise. Of course there were debates already. Sho’s council had undoubtedly told him not to meet with Jun, but here he was. “If that’s how it is, you won’t last five minutes with my brother.”  
  
“I’ve lasted longer,” Jun said before he could help it.  
  
If Sho’s sister had any reaction, Jun didn’t notice it; the doors were opening. It revealed the throne room where Sho was holding court, and at one raise of his hand, the talking stopped.  
  
He looked beautiful. Sitting atop a throne made of marble and dressed in fine garments dyed red and gold, he captured Jun’s attention in an instant. There was no one else Jun could see. His feet had a mind of their own when he started walking, and he thought he was hearing the herald announce his presence, his name, his title.  
  
None of those mattered. Sho had seen him without any of those titles, and the look he gave Jun hadn’t changed.  
  
Until Jun made it in front of him, and Sho rose from his seat.  
  
“You’ve met my sister,” Sho said in greeting.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said anyway.  
  
Sho’s cool look after that reply was reminiscent of the first few months Jun had spent in the outskirts. Gone was the familiarity and the affection, replaced by civility and cautious regard. It had to be taking all of Sho’s effort to look at him like that.  
  
“You’d forgive the whispers,” Sho said, waving a hand. He had command of the entire hall, of everyone present. “You’re the second Saiphan king we welcomed here. Some of them have seen the king before you, and so they talk.”  
  
“It’s not their talk that matters,” Jun said.  
  
“Of course,” Sho said, turning to his court. “Leave us.”  
  
A shuffle of movement and the hall began to empty save for the members of Sho’s royal guard—Keiko, Daigo, and Kiko were standing behind the throne, unmoving. They eyed Jun in the same way Ohno and Aiba had, who had also remained. Sho’s sister stood beside him, the only one who didn’t give Jun a look of distrust and hatred.  
  
Jun gave a nod to Shun, who dismissed the rest of their men. He only had Shun with him, but he knew Sho wouldn’t harm him. Not here.  
  
“You’ve sent a rather daring transmission, Your Majesty,” Sho said, taking a seat. He crossed his legs, one arm on the rest, and he had his chin on his knuckles. “Imagine my surprise.”  
  
Jun didn’t want to, even if he could. “Unnecessary. I’m here because I have a proposal I think you might consider, given the circumstances. War is coming to your doorstep.”  
  
Sho quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought you were here as a suitor.”  
  
It earned a smile from Mai, but Jun felt as if he’d been struck by those words. Don’t say it like that, he begged with his eyes. We both know what I meant by that.  
  
If Sho noticed, Jun couldn’t tell. Sho still had that mask of cool indifference. He looked impenetrable and unwelcoming, eyes calculating.  
  
Jun wondered what Sho could see in him. Their eyes never met.  
  
I’ve returned, Jun wanted to say. It’s me. We kissed and made love, do you not remember?  
  
“Then speak, Your Majesty,” Sho said after a moment. “Speak in front of those whom I trust, and I’ll decide if you’re deserving of that trust as well.”  
  
The words sliced through Jun like tiny blades, but he paid it no mind. Kings had sacrifices to make. “As you know, my half-sister has usurped the throne of Saiph by murdering my father and putting me in exile. I suspect she had the help of her mother. They declared war on Hamal, and considering your refusal to parley, I gather they will arrive soon.”  
  
“Soon,” Mai repeated beside Sho. “How soon?”  
  
Jun turned to Shun, who bowed before replying in broken Hamali, “A month at most.”  
  
He could sense the change in the air at that. That was sooner than expected, Jun knew. “My planet boasts of advanced technology and weaponry, and we estimate it’ll only take my half-sister a month to completely mobilize her army. She will not call upon those allied with Saiph to aid her now that I’ve returned and made my survival known in the galaxy. But her forces should be enough—no army in Hamal can fight them off and win.”  
  
He inclined his head towards those surrounding Sho’s throne. “I meant no offense; it’s simply the truth. Without Denebia, Hamal stands alone, and try as you might, you cannot win this war.”  
  
“So what do you propose, Your Majesty?” Sho asked. “I’ve seen your men. No more than thirty. I’m sure they’re the best, but thirty men against an armada is nothing. You’d hardly make a blip in the roster.”  
  
“I’m not offering you my men,” Jun said.  
  
Sho regarded him.  
  
“I’m offering myself,” he said. “I am the rightful heir, named by my father after my half-sister had abdicated. I am the Saiphan king, and once my planet learns of my survival, it will forestall the attack.”  
  
“Forestall how?” Sho asked, but he must’ve had the idea already.  
  
“The people will rally against the usurper and it will demoralize the Saiphan army,” Jun said. “I know our military. They follow orders to a cause, but if the cause is wrong, they think twice. They will not follow a false queen.”  
  
“You would allow your planet to fall into ruin to stop her from attacking mine?” Sho asked, eyebrows lifted in mock-surprise. “How noble. You see, I never took you for someone so honorable, Your Majesty, that you’d risk your people’s lives for mine.” He paused, smiling. “Is that how it is? You’d do anything to be king, even if you will rule among ruins and ashes?”  
  
“No,” Jun said trying to keep his temper in check. “Does it matter to you what happens to my planet? What I’m proposing will prevent war from coming to you.”  
  
“At the expense of somebody else’s lives,” Sho said. “I’m sure you have a lovely name and a glorious title attached to it, but when that’s done and history is being taught to future generations, you are nothing but a butcher.”  
  
“Do you think I will let my people die?” Jun asked seriously.  
  
That made Sho pause, long enough that Jun thought he wouldn’t answer.  
  
But he did. “No,” Sho said.  
  
Jun took a deep breath. “I propose an alliance between our kingdoms, Majesty. It never happened before, not between Saiph and Hamal. But together, we can stop the war from happening and usher in a time of peace. One that our people long deserved after centuries of disputes and fighting.”  
  
The tension in the room shifted, and Sho considered the proposal.  
  
“Alliances don’t come cheap,” Sho said. “What do you have to offer me aside from your allegiance? Do you have anything I could possibly want?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said confidently. He caught the momentary frown Sho had—clearly Sho hadn’t been expecting that. “My throne.”  
  
He remembered Sho had made the same offer in Denebia. He could see that Sho did, too.  
  
“Mine for yours,” Jun said. “I am not crowned, but you are. When my half-sister comes, you’ll be emperor still, but you’ll be the one sitting on a throne of ruins and ashes. It won’t be me.”  
  
“I suppose if I accept, you expect me to help you reclaim your throne?” Sho asked.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said simply. “You said it yourself: thirty men against an armada is nothing.”  
  
Sho’s eyes narrowed at him as if to say: You’ve learned.  
  
“I see you crowned, I keep my crown,” Sho said. “You make it sound simple.”  
  
“It is simple,” Jun said.  
  
“That’s easy to say for someone who has nothing to lose,” Sho said. “Unlike you, I have everything—an empire, a planet, a family.”  
  
The last bit made Jun shut his eyes. “But you almost lost them. And now you might lose them again. I have nothing, that is true. Which means I have nothing to protect. I’m here because I can admit to myself that I can’t do this alone. Can you?”  
  
“Admit something to myself or do something alone?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun met his gaze evenly. “I think you know.”  
  
For a moment, Sho fell silent. Jun could see in the faces of the Hamali that this wasn’t a common occurrence—Sho always had the last word.  
  
“Leave us,” Sho said, turning to his sister.  
  
Mai frowned at him.  
  
Sho only nodded, and Mai gave him one last look before giving a signal to Keiko and the others. Jun looked over his shoulder to nod at Shun, and Shun clasped his shoulder and squeezed before turning to go.  
  
The doors sliding shut started the thundering beat of Jun’s heart. Now that they were alone, they could speak openly. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dreading what Sho had to say.  
  
“Would you like something to drink?” Sho asked. “I could send for an attendant.”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “That won’t be necessary.”  
  
“I should have known you’d find a way back,” Sho said. “But this is sooner than I thought.”  
  
“You knew,” Jun said, and he could no longer keep the emotion from his voice. “You knew who I was all along.”  
  
“That you’re Saiph’s missing prince? My sworn enemy?” Sho asked. “Matsumoto Jun, direct descendant of the old Saiphan king who spirited away my ancestor, heir to the throne they established together after years of bloodshed?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, the word coming out hollow.  
  
“No, I did not,” Sho said, tone flat. Jun couldn’t hide his surprise. “Not at first.”  
  
“My name wasn’t changed,” Jun said. “You—it’s impossible. You had a blueprint of our gates when we first met.”  
  
“I managed to retrieve blueprints, yes,” Sho agreed. “That doesn’t mean I managed to find updated records of you. And why should I bother? I had no idea we’d ever meet.”  
  
It made sense. It did, however—  
  
“You said ‘at first’,” Jun told him. “Since when?”  
  
“I think you ought to know you did a very poor job in hiding your upbringing. When we first met, you talked like a royal, walked like a royal, acted like a royal. You spoke languages that shouldn’t be possible for an ordinary soldier. Soldiers were trained to follow orders. They weren’t given expensive education. You were stubborn and defiant, proud unlike any other prisoner I’ve met,” Sho said. “That alone hinted at who you were.”  
  
Jun noticed that Sho wasn’t answering the question. “But you didn’t believe it.”  
  
Sho blinked, eyes darting away for a second, but it was enough. It told Jun everything.  
  
“Didn’t believe what?” Sho asked, voice detached.  
  
“That it was me,” Jun said. “That you had the Saiphan prince for a prisoner.”  
  
“I did believe it,” Sho said. “Eventually, there was nothing else for me to do.”  
  
“That’s why you made me your bodyguard,” Jun said, finally realizing. “You knew who I was then. That’s why you said those things to me back at your ship just after I saved your life.” He had to look away to steady himself. “Was that bait? Were you goading me then, to see how I’d react?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho admitted. “I had to see for myself who you were once I realized you were never going to admit it yourself.”  
  
Jun let out a bitter laugh. “How cruel. As expected of you.”  
  
“I didn’t know you then,” Sho said.  
  
Jun willed himself not to look. “Know? What’s there to know? You hated me then, you hate me now. More so given who I really am. You knew. That’s why you sent me to Mesartim.”  
  
“You had a choice in Mesartim,” Sho said. “One you didn’t choose to take.”  
  
“Choice?” Jun asked between gritted teeth. “I had no choice. That was my captain right there, the captain of my personal guard that you sent to meet me. What were you expecting me to do?”  
  
“Run away,” Sho said, and Jun heard the honesty in his voice. “I wanted you to run away. Hide wherever your captain deemed was safe for you. That was your way out. And like the idiot you’re always proving yourself to be, you didn’t take it.”  
  
“I’m not a coward,” Jun said. “After all the months we spent together, you really thought I’d do that?”  
  
To his surprise, Sho laughed. “No. But I hoped you would. I hoped you’d see reason and stay away.” When he spoke again, he no longer looked at Jun. “Mesartim was your chance.”  
  
“I’m part of this war,” Jun said. “Running away would be abandoning my duty. I’ve abandoned it long enough, in all the months I spent here. I turned back on who I was for so long.”  
  
“Say the words,” Sho said.  
  
Jun didn’t understand. “What words?”  
  
“That this is who you really are. That whoever I met, made myself believe to be really you wasn’t you at all. Mesartim was my ultimatum to myself. I thought if you ran away and left for good, I’d have the memory of the person you created, of someone I always had whenever I needed. And I thought if you came back after Mesartim, that was my answer.”  
  
Sho looked at him now. “Now say the words. Tell me that the man who stood by my side at Denebia and at Lucida Ventris is not the man I’m facing now.”  
  
Jun’s voice was soft when he said, “That was all me.”  
  
“No,” Sho said, this time in denial. “No.”  
  
“It was me with you from the beginning,” Jun said. “What are you saying?”  
  
“No, _this_ is the real you,” Sho said, pointing at him. “This—Saiphan prince, king, whoever you claim yourself to be—this is who you are. The man I got to know, spent my time with, he—he doesn’t exist. You made him up.”  
  
“You believed him as much as I did,” Jun said. “We both did. Tell me I’m wrong.”  
  
Sho looked away, and he let out a shaky breath. “You called me cruel. You would know what that means. Was everything a lie then? Tell me at once so I can put it all behind me. Tell me now so I can forget.”  
  
It hurt, seeing and hearing Sho like this. The composure was gone, the emperor was gone. This was just Sho, and Jun—  
  
Jun still wanted him.  
  
“I never lied to you,” Jun said. It was the truth; he’d answered all of Sho’s questions then to the best of his ability.  
  
Sho stared right at him. “‘You have me’?”  
  
“Don’t,” Jun heard himself say, his voice nothing but a croak. “That—that wasn’t a lie. You know it wasn’t.”  
  
“I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” Sho said. “I suppose I am partly at fault for letting it go on for so long. I thought you’d come right out and tell me. Especially after.”  
  
“After,” Jun said. “That night—”  
  
“Stop lying to me,” Sho said immediately.  
  
“That night wasn’t a lie,” Jun said, anger rearing its ugly head. “When I kissed you—”  
  
“Don’t remind me,” Sho said harshly, but Jun ignored him.  
  
“—it was all me. You know it. _You asked for my name._ You removed the badge before you kissed back. You didn’t want the lie; you wanted me for who I was.”  
  
“And what a mistake it was,” Sho said, facing him. “Did you do that because you knew I can’t say no to what you’re offering once you returned to who you really are? Or did you do that just to see if you could?”  
  
Jun tried to hide how Sho’s words had gutted him but couldn’t. He could hear it in his voice as he said, “I said you weren’t a conquest. That was the truth. Everything that happened that night and the night after it, I did all of that because I wanted you. Those times, I thought I’d live the lie if I could be with you.”  
  
“So you did it because you could,” Sho said.  
  
“No!” Jun snapped, shaking his head. “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. You see me, you understand me. You can tell by looking at me. Do you really think that was all a lie?”  
  
Sho averted his eyes.  
  
“Look at me,” Jun said.  
  
Sho didn’t. “Why is it,” Sho began, “that you never do what you’re supposed to do, what I expected you to do?”  
  
Jun frowned, and Sho continued, “You were supposed to tell me you played me false to force my hand into this alliance. You were supposed to tell me that night and everything after it were done out of necessity, not out of want. That way, it would be easier.” Sho sighed in seeming exhaustion. “Why do you always choose to prove me otherwise?”  
  
“Did you think I could be that cruel?” Jun asked.  
  
“Yes,” Sho answered. “It was what I was made to believe in. All my life, I’ve been told about a prince fifty-seven light years away who would be the same kind of king his father before him had been. I’ve been told this prince would take what’s mine, not help me defend it. That he’d kill my people, not aid me in protecting them. It would’ve been so much easier if you turned out to be as cruel as they said. That way, I could’ve hated you utterly. Instead here I am, still somewhat happy that you’re here despite not being the same man who left my side. Pitiful, isn’t it?”  
  
“I never intended for any of this,” Jun said. “If you doubt anything I say from now on, never doubt that.”  
  
The silence that followed lasted for minutes. Jun could only look at Sho, at the obvious hurt on his face. He’d done that. He’d caused that, and right now, he’d give anything to undo it.  
  
But he could never go back to what once was.  
  
“If we establish an alliance today,” Sho said, voice suddenly very diplomatic and formal, “for how long shall it last?”  
  
It was, Jun thought, Sho’s way of asking: how long will you stay this time?  
  
The answer would always be the same.  
  
“For as long as we both want it,” Jun said. “Years. Decades. Centuries. Ages. We can make history right here, right now.”  
  
“What do you require in exchange for your cooperation?” The civility was back, and whatever emotion Sho had shown earlier had been suppressed once more.  
  
“Your cooperation,” Jun said. “Help me get my throne back in the same way I helped you. Let my people know I’m alive, let me speak to them as their king. Allow me to inform them who the real enemy is.”  
  
“You will risk civil war?”  
  
“I will fight my sister if I have to,” Jun said.  
  
“And what’s saying you won’t side with her when the time comes?” Sho asked. “I’m having trouble trusting right now, you see. The last person I gave it to turned out to be not who he claimed to be.”  
  
Jun closed his eyes briefly and said, “I will never betray you. You know this.”  
  
“There are many things I don’t know,” Sho said. “Most of them are things involving you.” He straightened in his seat. “You will have your answer tomorrow. The quarters have been prepared for you and your men, and a banquet will be held tonight in welcome.”  
  
He spoke like an emperor—no touch of emotion, authoritative, precise.  
  
“Will you be there?” Jun asked. There was no point if Sho wasn’t there.  
  
“I’d prefer not to,” Sho said spitefully, honestly. “I’m having trouble looking at you as it is. If I could, I’d send you out so I’ll never see your face again. But it’d be tantamount to another declaration of war if I failed to be a gracious host. You’ve had your chance to make your demands. You’ve named them, and I listened to them.” His voice cracked when he whispered, “Now leave me be.”  
  
In another time, Jun wouldn’t budge. He’d stay right where he stood and not leave Sho alone.  
  
But Sho had been right: he was no longer the same man that had left Sho’s side. He wasn’t that Jun anymore, the loyal Saiphan bodyguard of the future emperor.  
  
He inclined his head in a passable bow, gave Sho one last look that Sho didn’t return, and turned on his heel.  
  
\--  
  
True to his word, Sho was absent in the banquet. Instead his sister had attended in his place, explaining that her emperor brother was consulting with his council and the empress dowager regarding Jun’s proposal.  
  
Jun had been given the honor he deserved, seated on the high table. Had Sho attended, they would have sat beside one another. What he had instead was an empty chair on his left and Mai on his right.  
  
Mai was kind enough to introduce the courses to Jun, and if Sho had told her about Jun’s role in the previous war, Jun couldn’t tell. She certainly didn’t look at Jun for too long, keeping things casual and respectful at all times. A true-born princess.  
  
“My brother sent me here to entertain you, actually,” Mai confessed some time later, after a few courses. “He said you had the propensity for being easily bored.”  
  
“He makes me sound very pampered,” Jun said. “You don’t have to entertain anyone, Your Highness. If anything, you should be the one entertained.”  
  
“A very practiced answer,” Mai said with a laugh. “I’ve heard you had quite the reputation in your court, Your Majesty. Forgive me for listening to gossip, but with information on you being a scarcity here, there’s only hearsay to base imaginations from.”  
  
“I’m not offended,” Jun said. “And I’m sure you’re expecting this answer, but my reputation precedes me. Not so different from your brother.”  
  
“I wouldn’t know about my brother’s reputation,” Mai told him. “I know him enough to not listen to what other people think of him.” She waved her hand in Jun’s direction. “You, on the other hand, I know nothing about. And yet when my brother spoke to you earlier, there was...familiarity there. Not very obvious to just anyone, but I’ve known him all my life.” She looked at him now, eye-to-eye. “And from the looks on everyone’s faces, they all knew you.”  
  
“It’s not just my story to tell,” Jun said, inclining his head. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to refuse. But this concerns His Majesty the Emperor as well.”  
  
“I will not pry,” Mai said, taking her goblet in hand. “My brother’s affairs are his own. But I suppose I should have known.” She gave Jun a passing look. “He has a type.”  
  
There was no room for embarrassment in front of her, and Jun felt no ounce of it in him. Everyone in the fortress had known, and he’d held his head high then.  
  
“Obedient people?” Jun asked. In his time in Sho’s camp, it must’ve been a source of joy for Sho to see him following orders.  
  
“No,” Mai said with a small laugh which she hid at the back of her hand. “People who are too much like him, I’d say. Narcissistic, if you ask me, but he’s always been—” she paused and smiled, “—unconventional, is the term the court often uses. They can’t predict him.”  
  
“And you can?” Jun asked.  
  
“Yes,” Mai said. “He told me he’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I believe he will say yes.”  
  
Jun thought the same, but instead he asked, “Why are you telling me this, Your Highness?”  
  
“Because my brother is stubborn,” Mai said. “But he knows reason and sees it especially if it’s right before him. He will say yes because it’s beneficial to him—to us. If he helps you and you succeed, he saves Hamal. Twice. If he helps you and you don’t succeed, same thing. Hamal will still honor him as a hero.”  
  
“And is that what the emperor wants? Glory? For his name to last through the ages as the monarch who fought bravely for his planet?”  
  
“Oh no,” Mai said, and now she had a soft smile on her face. “No. My brother—for all his talk and actions—is a simple man. He wants just one thing.”  
  
“One thing?”  
  
Mai nodded. “Peace.” She looked straight at Jun. “He’s been fighting his whole life. He’s never known peace, to the point he craves it. Can you give that to him?”  
  
Jun said honestly, “I don’t know.”  
  
Mai gave him a sad smile, as if she’d been expecting his response.  
  
“But,” Jun said, looking out into the hall, at the smiles of people who weren’t his own, “for him, I will try.”  
  
\--  
  
The sleep Jun had in the quarters he’d been provided with was restless. He kept waking up, unaccustomed to smooth sheets, a soft mattress, and fluffy pillows. For months, he’d slept on the ground in a sleeping bag that had barely fit him. Now he had all the luxury and the comfort once more, but it wasn’t as poetic as he’d dreamt about then. He’d thought he’d sleep soundly.  
  
Morning came and Jun was summoned to the throne room after breakfast. He went with only Shun in tow, and he was greeted with the sight of Sho and the members of his council. Jun hardly remembered their faces. His eyes were on one person only.  
  
Sho looked like he hardly slept. It was the norm for him, but all Jun could recall was how Sho had looked like the morning after, those precious few seconds that Jun had had as he’d watched Sho sleep.  
  
It felt like a lifetime ago, an experience that belonged to somebody else.  
  
Jun reached the front of the dais and made his greetings, addressing the emperor and his council. He noticed that Mai and the empress dowager were both absent, but his attention snapped back to Sho at once when Sho spoke.  
  
“We’ve discussed your proposal in length,” Sho said, nodding to his sides. “And so I have three conditions before I accept. You must say yes to all three, or there is no treaty.”  
  
“I understand,” Jun said. “Name them, Your Majesty.”  
  
“Firstly, is that Mesartim will be returned to Hamal,” Sho said. “It is rightfully Hamal’s, and so that’s where it should be. In your reign and whoever reigns after you, this will be honored.”  
  
“Done,” Jun said. “The satellite has always belonged to you; we took it wrongly, and you have my word that I’ll see it restored.”  
  
“Secondly,” Sho said, “the technology of Saiph will be shared with Hamal. From medical advancements to spacecraft modifications. You use our ores to build your defenses. Without our raw materials, you have nothing. You need our resources before you can do your procedures. Teach us the procedure, and you’ll have a lifetime supply of ore of any kind. No need to invade a mining satellite.”  
  
“Consider it done,” Jun said. “You’ll have our latest technology, even our military improvements. What is Saiph’s will be Hamal’s, and vice versa.”  
  
“Lastly,” Sho said, “should the time come that your people will visit this planet, they must adapt to our customs and culture as is appropriate. Likewise, my people will respectfully observe your traditions should they choose to visit your planet. There will be no feud over cultural misunderstanding of any kind. Educate my people if you have to, but let your own people undergo the same.”  
  
“I expected nothing less from you,” Jun said seriously. “It will be done as you say. If I become king, Saiph’s gates will be open to all Hamali, including the colonies under Hamali’s protection. All of Saiph will be accessible to your people should they have need of it.”  
  
“Then you have your treaty, Saiphan king,” Sho said, eyes cold and not on Jun. “You shall have Hamal’s support in your campaign, and should you succeed, we expect your end of the bargain to be fulfilled.”  
  
Sho stood and descended the dais, his fine robes fitting him perfectly in rich, bright hues. A council member stepped forward with a pad, showing its screen to Jun. It was everything Sho had mentioned, neatly outlined in Hamali, Saiphan, and the common tongue. Jun skimmed through the words, most of them blurring over one another in their repetitiveness.  
  
“After you,” Sho said, extending his hand.  
  
Jun was handed a stylus, and he affixed his signature on the designated space before handing Sho the stylus.  
  
Sho didn’t take it. He waited until he was given another by a council member, signing his name beside Jun’s. His hand hadn’t trembled, but he didn’t glance at Jun even once.  
  
“Today, Hamal joins the right cause,” Sho said, addressing his court. “Today, on behalf of Hamal, I chose the path to possible peace. Let this day be known as the beginning of an alliance between planets which spent more than a century as enemies. The throne of Hamal for the Saiphan throne, an emperor for a king.” Sho didn’t look at him. “Hamal recognizes you as the rightful king of Saiph, Matsumoto Jun. Whatever’s mine is yours, and yours will be mine.”  
  
“As it should be,” Jun said evenly.  
  
“In Hamal, alliances are celebrated for three days,” Sho said. “You will have three days’ worth of celebrations in your name. Those three days begin now.”  
  
“The emperor is gracious,” Jun said, emotionless.  
  
A councilman stepped close to Sho and whispered something, and Sho nodded. “My people are already celebrating in your name. The signing was made public, you see. The entire planet acted as our witness.”  
  
Jun hadn’t known that, which was likely Sho’s intention.  
  
“Go and meet them,” Sho said to him despite not directly looking at him. “My people are also your people now.”  
  
It was Sho’s way on sending him out. There was nothing else to do but to accept, and he bowed as was acceptable and made his way out.  
  
He was escorted back to his quarters and provided with clothes befitting his status that were also designed in the Saiphan way. They didn’t feel oversized like Nagase’s clothes. These had been tailored for him, and when he put them on, he almost didn’t recognize himself in front of the mirror.  
  
It was a three-piece white suit, the coat having an intricate design sewn by hand. It wasn’t embroidered in gold like Sho’s, instead the silken material had a glistening pattern all over it. When Jun ran his hand over the sleeve, he could hardly feel the smoothness. His fingers had calluses now.  
  
An attendant came to help him with his hair, and Jun agreed only to a little trim. He didn’t want to come back to how his hair had looked like before his exile. His fringe that had nearly touched his eyes now only reached up to his eyebrows, and he was groomed until he found someone looking like a king staring back at him when he looked at his reflection.  
  
He put the gloves on and was left alone for a few moments. He didn’t feel like a king. He felt like he’d been stuffed in clothes that hadn’t suited him for long.  
  
A knock on the door and when he said, “Enter,” he saw an elderly woman come in. He turned swiftly and bowed in reverence; it was the empress dowager. Jun knew her face from the holos of rejection his father had received, but combined with the whole look including the robes and the crown, she looked rather intimidating.  
  
She was nothing Jun felt. She was confident, elegant, and wise, and standing in her presence made Jun’s heart race.  
  
“Lift your head,” she said, and Jun did.  
  
“I would inquire about your health, but you seem very well,” Jun said politely.  
  
A quirk of the corner of her mouth was all he received. “You look very handsome.”  
  
“I haven’t worn clothes like these in so long,” Jun admitted. He felt out of place.  
  
“My son had those made four days ago,” she said.  
  
Jun was surprised, and Sho’s mother simply nodded.  
  
“When I asked, he said he was expecting something to happen,” she told him. “I didn’t understand him then. A Hamali emperor asking his personal tailor to make royal Saiphan clothing. But then you arrived, and all pieces fell into place.” She stared at him, and Jun knew he couldn’t hide a thing from her. “What’s your association with my son?”  
  
Jun pondered on the answer for as long as he could. “I helped him win the war.”  
  
“You killed Inamine,” she concluded.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And that is all? Our people know nothing of the identity of Inamine’s killer. We decided not to reveal it given the bloodthirsty background of the war. But Sho did tell me it was by the hand of someone he trusted.” Jun had to shut his eyes at those words. “Is that all you have to say in regards to my query?”  
  
In his heart, despite all his hopes, Jun knew there would never be a repeat of what he and Sho had shared. They could never return to that, even if Jun was here in Hamal again. Things weren’t the same.  
  
“That is all,” he said, ignoring the ache he felt.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, and Jun felt as if she was scrutinizing him. “Do you know what my son told me when I asked why he wanted to say yes to your offer? It didn’t matter that he had no other choice. To me, now that he’s emperor, there are things he must decide on his own. I only asked him for his reason.”  
  
“Because your son is a clever man and he could tell that what I proposed was more beneficial to him than to me,” Jun said. “That if civil war breaks out in my planet, it will delay the invasion to his and thus buy him more time.”  
  
Sho’s mother smiled. “No, that’s not what he said. Thought I don’t blame you for thinking it. You are your father’s son, after all. May the stars shine upon him.” She inclined her head and Jun nodded. “No, Sho told me he wanted to say yes because he thought if he denied you, you’d go ahead and fight for your crown anyway.”  
  
Jun had nothing to say. His surprise had taken over him.  
  
“I thought I had to meet the man whom Sho didn’t want to abandon,” she said. “Do you remember what I asked you earlier?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said softly.  
  
“I know my son. He doesn’t risk what he has for just anyone.” Outside the palace, they could hear Sheratan beginning its celebrations. “Now tell me before you leave: is your answer the same as before?”  
  
Was that all Sho was to him?  
  
Jun went with the truth. “There’s nothing more to say. Whatever happened then will never happen again, no matter how much I wish for things to be different. He is...important to me. But he can’t be anything more. You would understand.”  
  
“Spoken like a king,” she said. “You look like one.” She moved to leave. “My daughter will serve as your guide throughout the celebrations. You’d forgive my absence; I’m still recovering even though I don’t look like it.”  
  
“I hope you feel better soon,” Jun said politely, bowing. “I hope to see you on the final day of the celebrations.”  
  
“In Hamal, we try not to miss that.” The doors slid open for her when she reached them. “He will be there, if that’s what you’d like to know.”  
  
Before Jun could respond, the empress dowager left, her elegant robe sweeping behind her as she walked away.  
  
\--  
  
The celebrations were alien to Jun given that he had no idea about the songs, the performances, the gifts that had been presented to him. There were games held in his name and honor on the first day, and he rewarded the victors on the second day by letting them share his table and their stories with him. In Saiph, games lasted for weeks. It was evident that Hamal only held games to imitate what Jun was accustomed to, but they hadn’t quite gotten it right.  
  
On the final day, Sho was indeed present, but he hardly exchanged a word with Jun. If they spoke, it was out of formality. Sho didn’t look at him in the eye and was careful not to be left alone with him. When night came and the dancing was everywhere, a man approached the dais, inclined his head at Jun, and asked Sho for a dance.  
  
Such things weren’t uncommon in Hamal, but Sho accepting apparently was. There was a change in the air when Sho accepted, allowing himself to be led away from Jun. Jun followed them with his eyes, not letting them disappear within the crowd, though the people parted for them and gave them space as the music changed.  
  
“That’s one of his suitors,” Mai said. She sat on Sho’s other side, and from the look on her face, she had to be watching Jun’s reaction for a while. “To my knowledge, my brother turned him down.”  
  
“Then why is he here?” Jun asked. Sho was a passable dancer, and Jun saw him share a laugh with whoever he was dancing with. “If he’s been rejected, why come back?”  
  
“Because my brother rejected him when he was still Emperor Apparent,” Mai explained. “Now that he’s emperor, they’re all trying again. You should have seen the princess from Vega try to win his hand. I’m surprised he accepted to dance; he normally declines.”  
  
“I could tell,” Jun said, looking around. Everybody was watching the emperor. The spike of jealousy was unwelcome but ever present. “Would you like to dance?”  
  
“I’m afraid I’m deficient in that particular lesson when it was taught to me,” Mai said with a smile. “But I know someone who would want to.” She pointed to Jun’s right, and Jun saw Kiko. “She told me she saw you dance before.”  
  
“She did,” Jun said, standing. “Please excuse me.”  
  
Mai only waved her hand, and Jun made his way to where Kiko stood. She wasn’t wearing a dress like the others, instead a pair of trousers tucked inside her boots that ran up to her shins. She smiled when Jun was right before her.  
  
“You seem friendlier compared to four days ago,” Jun said as a way of greeting.  
  
“Your expression amuses me,” Kiko said.  
  
Jun frowned. “What?”  
  
“You should’ve just asked him,” Kiko said.  
  
Jun only stared at her.  
  
“Now look, he’s dancing with a suitor. Had you asked first—”  
  
“He would have declined,” Jun said immediately. “He doesn’t want to talk to me. Let alone stay in my presence for too long.”  
  
Kiko tilted her head to the side as she watched him. “Well, you did lie to him. To everyone in the camp. They’re all still angry in their own ways.”  
  
“And you’re not?”  
  
“I was,” Kiko said. “But I thought you weren’t lying about the meteor storms.”  
  
Her casual tone was something Jun preferred. He’d feel weird if she suddenly became respectful towards him. She’d made his nose bleed in their practice fights.  
  
“I wasn’t,” Jun said. “And I never lied to him. He knew anyway. He knew way before.”  
  
Kiko took his hand and said, “Ask him for a dance.”  
  
“He’d say no,” Jun said, entirely convinced of it.  
  
“He won’t when you do it in the middle of the dance floor and I take his suitor away,” Kiko said, grinning at him. “Come.”  
  
Jun allowed Kiko to lead him, only taking over once they reached the floor. The music was about to end and they made their way to where Sho and his suitor were, and when the music transitioned to another one again, Kiko offered herself.  
  
“This is a member of my personal guard,” Sho said as an introduction. “Forgive her; she’s quite overprotective of me.”  
  
Sho’s suitor chuckled. “I’ll answer any question she might have for me,” he said, offering his arm to Kiko who took it and led him away.  
  
“Dance with me,” Jun said as soon as they were far enough.  
  
“You planned this,” Sho said, his lips hardly moving.  
  
“I need to talk to you,” Jun said.  
  
“I have nothing to say,” Sho told him. “Tomorrow, we can talk all day about war. If you want a conversation, save it for tomorrow.”  
  
“I need you to listen to me,” Jun said, extending his palm out. “Please.”  
  
When Sho took his hand, he found himself wishing he removed the gloves. He couldn’t feel anything. Sho’s grip was loose as they danced with the rest of the court, his eyes nowhere on Jun’s.  
  
There had been a time, Jun thought, that Sho only had eyes for him.  
  
“You’d use a cheap ploy to get me to do anything you want,” Sho said, voice hard. “What is it this time?”  
  
“Why do you think I need something from you?” Jun asked, hurting. He’d never felt so far away from Sho like now. They were closer than they had been since Jun’s return, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach Sho.  
  
“You have something to say, you said. Say it so this will be over.”  
  
“Tell me what happened here,” Jun said. “To your aunt. To your mother. How you got your crown.”  
  
“Are you a historian now?”  
  
“There was a time you’d tell me about these things.”  
  
“And that time has passed,” Sho said dismissively. “You are not my confidant. Stop asking.”  
  
Jun found himself nodding. He led Sho close to the dais and stopped moving to the beat. “I won’t force you. I’ve said that and it remains true to this day.” His chest constricted as he let Sho go, knowing it was for the best.  
  
There’d be nothing after this. This, Jun promised himself, was the last time he’d try. And he had to respect Sho’s answer.  
  
Sho’s face was expressionless, and Jun took a step back. “Tomorrow, we talk of war. Excuse me,” he said. He had to be alone.  
  
He left without waiting for a reply, heading outside to remain in the veranda that overlooked the sea. The night breeze hit his face and mussed his hair but he paid it no mind. He rested his weight on the cool marble and looked up. He saw the pitcher and the other constellations Sho had told him about, and remembered.  
  
What once was will return in one way or another, Sho had said.  
  
Jun knew that was impossible. He could never return. He’d never wear that badge again, never stand by Sho’s side again. Sho was emperor now and no longer needed him.  
  
He had to let go. It would only compromise him when the time comes. Rina, if she found out, would use Sho against him, and he couldn’t let that happen. He had to stay focused and detach himself from whatever he was feeling.  
  
He had to forget, in one way or another.  
  
If he managed to stop the war from happening and got his crown, he’d have no reason to be in Hamal anymore. They’d never see each other again. It hurt, but there was no other way. Jun couldn’t be selfish now, not when he’d neglected his duty for so long.  
  
He had to give up something to gain another. And he’d choose as Sho had before him. A sacrifice a king had to make.  
  
The wind blew and howled against his ear as he closed his eyes. His solitude only existed in the physical aspect; he was plagued by thoughts, memories, and uncertainties. He had Sho for an ally, but that only existed on paper.  
  
No matter, he thought. He’d survived Hamal and its harshness towards his kind. He could survive this. Even if he didn’t want to, he had no choice.  
  
He had no one. Whatever was about to happen, he had to fight on his own.  
  
\--  
  
In Sho’s private study, they talked of war as promised. Jun went there with Shun, seeing Sho, Ohno, and Aiba already present. Sho’s council were connected to them via a live feed in a private channel, and when Jun had asked, Ohno had explained that Sho didn’t like too many people entering his study regardless of who they were.  
  
“This,” Sho said, handing a pad that Jun took, “is the declaration of hostility your planet sent to mine, approximately two months ago, signed by the usurper who declares herself queen of Saiph. I have less than three weeks left to respond to that. With you here, I suppose my answer is obvious. Hamal will not surrender.”  
  
“Your Majesty,” a councilman said, his face a hologram on Sho’s desk, “as you’ve been informed, the council is split on this. Half is with you, and the other half wants to try to parley. We’d like to know what the King of Saiph has to say.”  
  
“She will not parley,” Jun said, convinced of it. “If she does, it’s only for show. And her offer will be meager and belittling. If she offers anything, it will be done just to goad you into fighting her.”  
  
Sho looked at the holo and said, “If you doubt my judgment, do not doubt his. He lived with her.” To Jun: “How many years?”  
  
“Twenty-five,” Jun said, shutting his eyes briefly. “I was twenty-five when she abdicated.”  
  
“And nine years later, she chooses to betray you for the simple matter of the Saiphan crown. Lovely.” Sho turned back to his council. “We will accept their offer to parley should there be one. I still intend to hear them out. But my decision is made: Hamal will fight.”  
  
“We don’t have Denebia on our side anymore,” one councilwoman pointed out. “Denebia washes her hands of any Saiph-related affairs.”  
  
“I don’t need Denebia,” Sho said confidently. “I’ve been hearing reports about unrest since the usurper queen started her reign. I have the Saiphan king right here. He’s loved by his people, missed by them. With him alone, I can buy us time.”  
  
“There are lands in Saiph that are sworn to me,” Jun said. “Some of them are my lands by birthright. Once they learn of my survival, they are on our side.”  
  
“They already know,” Sho said, making Jun face him. “Last night, we’ve received this transmission from Saiph asking for an audience.”  
  
Sho gestured to Aiba, who tapped away on the pad that he held. Soon, a recorded transmission started playing.  
  
Jun had to brace himself on the edges of Sho’s desk as he heard Rina’s voice. Months. It had been months. But she sounded the same, the person Jun had grown up with and had treated as family.  
  
And now he had to fight her.  
  
“Greetings from Saiph and once again, congratulations on winning the war, Your Majesty,” Rina said. “This is a transmission I’m sending upon receiving a report regarding a false rumor that my brother lives. On behalf of Saiph, I’d like to inform you that we’ve exhausted all means in finding him. Thus, the rumor is untrue, and shouldn’t be a cause of worry for you. I am requesting for an audience in your court—queen to emperor—to discuss matters that are most pressing.”  
  
Aiba ended the transmission, and Jun let out a breath.  
  
“You responded,” he said to Sho.  
  
Sho didn’t look at him. “Yes. I denied her request. I told her I’d only speak to the true heir to the Saiphan throne, and now that he lives, her declaration of hostility no longer holds. Do you declare us hostile?”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “I have no wishes to fight you or take what’s yours.”  
  
“But you wear no crown and so they will invade,” Sho said, addressing his council. “And they will attack the colonies first. Raid them as they’ve done to Mesartim.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, and Sho’s attention snapped back to him. He was aware he had the eyes of everybody now. “Yes, she will do that. But not just that. Now that she knows I’m alive, she’ll think she can slip a Saiphan easily into the planet. Perhaps there will be a reconnaissance ship acting as decoy while they have a spy enter the planet. They will use the raids as a distraction.” He walked around Sho’s desk, picking up a pad that had the star map of Hamal’s entire territory and had it projected as a hologram. With a nod from Shun, he continued, “Given the size of the Saiphan army, she can raid five colonies at the same time. Three if those who are sworn to me defect. And she’ll pick those that are far from each other to exhaust your army extensively.”  
  
“The princess would likely target first those colonies which are not very profitable for you to delude you into thinking she’s not taking you seriously,” Shun said, inclining his head in apology for having spoken out of turn, but Sho didn’t seem to mind. “When you launch your army, she will go for the mines. Then perhaps, she’ll set her true plan in motion, which is slipping a spy into your planet.”  
  
“How do you know of this?” Sho asked, one eyebrow quirked.  
  
“The late king once had this for a plan,” Shun said. He’d told Jun before, and Jun had known then that Sho had been telling the truth. “I was privy to it being the Captain of the Prince’s Guard. It will not be strange to me if the princess adapts it—her men now once belonged to the late king’s.”  
  
Sho turned to Ohno. “I want patrols in every colony, every mining satellite, every trade route.” Ohno nodded. To his council: “All handler and trader ships are to be inspected thoroughly and will not be allowed into the planet without proper permit. I want the trade route in Altair Belt to be closed.”  
  
“Closed?” The council seemed to panic at that. “Your Majesty, that is our most profitable trade route. With Mesartim soon returning to us, we need the route open more than ever.”  
  
“There are other routes,” Sho said. “Close the Altair Belt and have it extensively patrolled. Whoever tries to use it will be directed to Vega. The toll increase shouldn’t be a problem if they’re traders.”  
  
“And if they’re miners?” A councilwoman asked. “Your Majesty, the miners rely on the Altair Belt trade route because they cannot pay the toll fee implemented by Vega.”  
  
Sho was looking at the councilwoman, and she seemed to brace herself for what he was about to say. Jun could understand; he’d been on that end more than once. “Send a transmission to the Princess of Vega. Tell her the Emperor of Hamal is inviting her to visit Sheratan as a royal guest of his household. If she fancies me still, Vega will not implement their exorbitant fees on our miners.”  
  
The council members looked at each other and nodded one by one. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” the councilwoman from earlier said. “Would you like for me to send the transmission now?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Sho said, smiling and waving a hand in dismissal. “I call for a momentary recess. I want a tabulation of the toll fees sent to my pad in ten minutes.” The council nodded their agreement, and Aiba switched the holo off and closed the channel.  
  
Jun faced Shun and said, “I want you to establish a private channel to Cygni. It’s close to the Vegan trade route, and if there’s anyone who knows how to handle money and matters involving it, it’s your wife.”  
  
Shun smiled. “I’ll send a transmission at once.” He bowed and excused himself.  
  
Sho turned to Jun. “You disagree with my methods.”  
  
Of course he could tell. “If the Princess of Vega truly fancies you as you and your sister have implied, you’ll be playing with her feelings,” Jun said. “To secure a trade route so your people can conduct business as usual.”  
  
“You’ve never met her,” Sho said. “She wants me to name her as High Consort to the Emperor so she’ll be secured for the rest of her life. She’s an incredibly talented faker—you saw how she managed to convince my council with three visits. Unfortunately for her, I’ve been dealing with her kind all my life. People have their own agendas when they talk to me, trying to spin their words into something I might like.”  
  
“And you think that’s hers? That’s an assumption, not truth,” Jun said.  
  
“No, I know that’s hers,” Sho said. “You see, she prefers women.”  
  
Jun opened his mouth and closed it again, the words leaving him. Sho gestured to Ohno and Aiba to call for attendants to bring them refreshments and the two excused themselves.  
  
When the doors slid shut once more, Sho said quietly, “I know how someone looks like when they truly want me.”  
  
When Jun turned, all he saw was Sho’s back.  
  
They were finally alone together, and Sho was deliberately shielding himself.  
  
“I suppose they look like your suitor from last night?” Jun asked. Jun hadn’t bothered to ask where that man had hailed from, but he’d been handsome. Someone Jun would’ve likely entertained had it been his suitor when he’d been Crown Prince.  
  
“No,” Sho said, and the doors were sliding open to reveal an attendant. “They look like a king from last night.”  
  
Sho then faced the attendant and said pleasantly, “Have these served to the council as well. I want a luncheon prepared three hours from now, and have it served by then.”  
  
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the attendant said before excusing herself, and with her departure, Ohno and Aiba returned.  
  
“We have the roster of men available to fight from all over the planet, as well as the ship count available for patrol,” Aiba said, and Jun knew their moment had passed.  
  
“Bring it here,” Sho said.  
  
The recess was over, and the rest of the day passed with them talking of matters befitting kings.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today in VSA (11/09/2017), Sho guided Jun in the dark. To celebrate, I edited this instead of doing my readings. Enjoy.

The first attack happened in Esdes, a small colony of ore refineries at the edge of Hamal’s star map. It happened after Jun had had a live transmission addressing the people of Saiph through the unfiltered, public channels. He’d had Shun behind him as he’d spoken to the citizens, taking his oath before them and promising that he’d stop the war from happening.  
  
Rina had treated it as a provocation on Jun’s part, attacking Hamali territory at once. Shun had received word from half of the Saiphan army that they were on their way to Hamal. Defectors, mostly from the lands Jun had had under his name, some from the colonies that remained loyal to him and hadn’t believed his disappearance.  
  
Sho had given him a pad of his own to use, and with it, he monitored the war reports, the expenses, the manpower they had. Sho was almost always in council meetings now, arguing with men and women older than him.  
  
Jun had sent Shun and the rest of his personal guard to Esdes as support. He remained in Sheratan to await the arrival of the Saiphan army, those who had joined his cause. He’d been in constant communication with a sergeant named Muro, one of Shun’s trusted comrades.  
  
His pad pinged with a private transmission, and he didn’t recognize the sender. He was alone in his quarters and he played the message, the first few seconds being nothing but black.  
  
Then she appeared, and Jun thought his heart must have stopped.  
  
“Jun,” Rina said in a prerecorded transmission, her eyes brimming with tears, “you’re really alive.”  
  
Jun couldn’t move. He couldn’t think.  
  
“I’m recording this after your broadcast. The entire planet knows. They are celebrating. Half of them is rioting already, trying to tear the gates down, wanting me to abdicate now that their true king is back.” She exhaled slowly. “Do not come home. I’m assuming you are in Hamal, in Sheratan. Stay there. If you do, you’ll be safe.”  
  
Jun couldn’t listen to this. But his hands remained frozen on the pad’s sides.  
  
“I know you don’t believe me,” Rina said, flashing a small, sad smile. “Why should you? The last time we saw each other, I told you I killed father and I put you in exile. I had to do that. If I didn’t, she would have killed you.”  
  
Jun didn’t understand. She?  
  
Rina looked over her shoulder and turned back to the recording. “When you receive this, she already knows what I’ve done, that I’ve risked everything for you to get this message. Whatever she’s planning, don’t fall for it. My mother will use whatever means necessary to remain in power.” She looked apologetic now, eyes downcast. “She’s just using me as a front. Now that you’ve returned, she no longer needs me. Do not come back here. I put you in exile because she would have killed you. It was the only way to keep you safe. I knew you’d survive in one way or another.” She smiled. “Perhaps, in another life, you can tell me all about it, like all the times you snuck in my room to tell me how your day went. Until then, brother.”  
  
She lifted a hand to end her transmission but paused, fingers hovering awkwardly. “I know you will not believe me, but I didn’t kill father. I couldn’t. She asked me to, but I couldn’t. I loved him as you do. Sadly, I love my mother as well. And that’s where the root of the problem lies, I think.”  
  
The transmission ended, and Jun saw his reflection on the dark screen, looking as he felt. He was lost. His broadcast had happened a week ago. For this message to take this long to reach him, Rina had had to send it through a secure, undetectable channel.  
  
Jun knew he shouldn’t believe it. Their plans were in motion, and once the reinforcements arrive, they could begin planning the siege. Sho’s plan was to take the royal palace and bring the war to Saiph, not to Hamal. With Saiph’s forces divided between Jun and Rina, they’d have a headstart if they took their armies to Saiph once the raids have been stopped.  
  
But if Rina’s transmission was true, then that meant she was in grave danger. Jun couldn’t simply abandon her—her mother would turn on her now that things weren’t going according to her plans. Rina had explicitly told him not to come home.  
  
Jun didn’t know what to do. The rational part of him said he should delete the transmission and proceed with their plans like he’d received nothing.  
  
But Rina had been— _was_ his sister, still.  
  
Jun remained in his quarters, unaware how much time had passed. He played the transmission over and over, trying to dissect it, to make sense of it even if he couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, he could see Rina’s face, hear her words. Do not come home, do not come back here, she had said.  
  
“I have no needs at the moment,” he said when he heard the doors slide open. He’d dismissed so many attendants, refusing their offers of food and refreshments. It was already night, and he hadn’t eaten a thing. He had no appetite.  
  
“It’s not an attendant,” was the answer.  
  
Jun tensed and didn’t dare look. He couldn’t deal with this. Combined with what he’d received today, he couldn’t handle it.  
  
“I’ve been told you refused to eat,” Sho said, and Jun could hear him approaching. “The chefs thought it was your palate, so they asked for my permission to make a Saiphan cuisine. But I said no since you’ve eaten Hamali food for months. Care to tell me what’s wrong?”  
  
He couldn’t. Sho was on his side, yes, but he knew what Sho would say. But Jun couldn’t also hide a thing from Sho, and so he deliberately kept looking the other way.  
  
“I—” he tried, voice coming out hoarse from disuse, “I’d like to be alone.”  
  
“Dismissing me in my own palace? That’s interesting.”  
  
He felt a hand rest on the back of his chair and he shut his eyes as the chair swiveled around. He knew if he looked, he’d see Sho’s face studying his.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Sho asked again. The airy lilt to his voice was gone, replaced by seriousness. Jun felt a thumb brush his cheekbone, the first contact they had in weeks. “You’re crying.”  
  
Jun hadn’t even noticed he was doing it. “I know what you’ll say,” he muttered quietly. “You’re going to tell me it’s a trap and I’m a fool for listening to it in the first place. You’re going to tell me I’ll end up ruining our plans.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Sho asked.  
  
“I can’t argue with you as I am now,” Jun admitted. “And I know you don’t care, but I have no one. She’s all I have.” He reached for the pad behind him and handed it to Sho.  
  
Sho took the pad from him and soon, Jun heard the transmission playing. Jun stood and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. He couldn’t bear to hear her voice again. It was in his mind, a constant loop. She’d never ask for help; she was the older one.  
  
He buried his face in his hands, unable to keep himself from crying. He’d held the tears back for so long. He found himself believing Rina despite what she’d done. He’d grown up looking up to her as his protector, and she’d protected him until the end. All this time he’d wanted answers, and now that he’d gotten them, he didn’t know what to do.  
  
He heard Sho approach, and he hated how his voice cracked as he said, “I know what you’re going to say. I know. So please just say it and—”  
  
“Don’t ask me to leave,” Sho said.  
  
Jun breathed out shakily. It was rude; he was Sho’s guest. But he couldn’t do this. “Please.”  
  
“No,” Sho said stubbornly, and Jun felt the mattress dip as Sho sat next to him. “You don’t have to be alone right now.”  
  
He sounded so weak when he said, “There’s no one.”  
  
“I’m here,” Sho said softly.  
  
Jun didn’t know how a laugh escaped from him. It was hollow, mirthless. “No you’re not. I could be standing next to you and you’d still feel light years away. Since I returned, I could never reach you.”  
  
He felt fingers prying his hand away from his face and he let them, and when he finally looked at Sho, Sho lifted his hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “I’m right here.”  
  
Selfishly, Jun found himself saying, “Tell me you missed me. Even if it’s not true. Even if you’re just going to indulge me.”  
  
“At night, I’d lie awake, unable to find rest, only to realize I was waiting for you to bring a book. At times, I’d look to my side and wonder why you’re not there.” Sho held his hand in his own, keeping them clasped together. “I miss you. That’s the truth.”  
  
“I can’t do this,” Jun said, a quiet, raw admission. “I can’t.”  
  
“That’s why I’m here,” Sho said. “You don’t have to do it alone.”  
  
Jun didn’t look at him. “You think it’s a trap.”  
  
Sho remained silent.  
  
“You think I shouldn’t listen to it,” Jun said.  
  
“That’s not what I think,” Sho said. “I’m finding it odd that she told you not to go back. Had I been in her place, I’d welcome you with open arms. It would be easier to kill you if you were in Saiph. But she told you not to return.”  
  
Jun laced their fingers together, and he was glad for the warmth. He’d missed the proximity. “She’s the only family I have left. If that transmission is true, then she’s in danger. I can’t lose her.”  
  
“I’m not going to allow you to leave,” Sho said. “You can’t leave Sheratan. You’re safe here.”  
  
“And I’m not going to ask you to risk your plans for me,” Jun said. “But I’ve already lost my father. She’s the only one I’ve got now.”  
  
“What are you planning to do?” Sho asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” Jun said honestly. “I...I want to help her. But I don’t know how. And yet, I’m not asking you to help me. I know the risk is too great for you.”  
  
Sho smiled, a small quirk of the angle of his lips. “You should know by now that I can’t leave you. I already risked my empire for you.”  
  
“And that’s already too much,” Jun said. “I’m not asking for anything more. But if I find a way to help her, save her...don’t stop me. It will be dangerous, whatever it is.”  
  
“If you know it’ll be dangerous, how can you ask that of me?” Sho squeezed his hand. “I’ve done so much to keep you safe. And like always, you find a way to ruin that.”  
  
Jun didn’t understand. He frowned, looking at Sho. “What?”  
  
“You asked me once why I didn’t put the blame on you when they tried to have me assassinated. Do you remember?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“That time, I already had my suspicions regarding who you were. If I put you forth as the mastermind, you were right: no one would’ve questioned it. But at the same time, you’d be subjected to a trial before my mother’s council, and sooner or later, my mother would’ve found out who you were.” Sho’s eyes were on the floor. “With someone like Inamine still in the council, you’d be executed. He’d bask in the glory for having orchestrated it—for killing the Saiphan prince. That’s why I told you to go.”  
  
Jun didn’t know what to say. He could only listen.  
  
“When I sent you to Mesartim and told you that I had hoped you’d run away, that was the truth,” Sho said. “If you did that, you’d be far away from all this. No one would know you’re alive except me and your personal guard, and they’re sworn to protect you. That was my reassurance. I knew they’d give their lives for you, so I thought I could handle an impending war because at the back of my mind, I know you were somewhere safe.”  
  
“I never asked for you to protect me,” Jun said.  
  
“I remember. The only thing you asked me for was your freedom,” Sho said. “And I gave it to you in hopes you’d use it to live a life that didn’t have anything to do with positions of power. Instead here you are, fighting for a crown, for your people. I should’ve known, really. But I hoped still.”  
  
“You knew I can never abandon them,” Jun told him. “You’re the same towards your own people. You’d give me up before them, and I understand. That’s how it is for men like us.”  
  
“I thought I already gave you up when I watched you leave,” Sho said. “But as it turns out, I didn’t. Because when you came back, a part of me was glad.” Their eyes met, and Sho said, “Don’t ask me to do that. Don’t ever ask me to choose.”  
  
“I won’t,” Jun promised. “But you should know that given the same choices, if I could, I’d—”  
  
“I know,” Sho said, his other hand resting on Jun’s lips, preventing him to speak. “Don’t say it. I don’t have to hear it to believe it.”  
  
Sho’s hand fell away, and Jun said, “Don’t stop me. I know it’s stupid. I know it might be a trap. But I will help her.”  
  
“You might not come back this time,” Sho said.  
  
It was Jun’s turn to lift Sho’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I will. I always find a way to return. This time won’t be different.”  
  
They sat closer to one another now, and when Jun lifted his head, all he could see was Sho’s face. The emotions on it, the hesitation in his eyes, the underlying fear.  
  
This was the Sho he knew. That one that had been his.  
  
“Promise me,” Sho whispered between them.  
  
For the second time, Jun said, “I promise.” But this time he had to add: “I will go back to you.”  
  
He was in Sho’s space, and they were a breath away. He wanted—  
  
A knock on the doors followed by the sounds of them sliding open, and they had to separate. And yet, Sho didn’t let go of his hand.  
  
“Yes?” Sho said to the attendant, who jolted in surprise upon the sight of him.  
  
She bowed hastily. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I was sent by the chefs to inquire about dinner.”  
  
“Whose dinner?” Sho asked conversationally. It made Jun smile.  
  
“His Majesty’s,” the attendant said, lifting her head a little to nod at Jun. “And yours as well, Your Majesty. Will you be dining in the hall?”  
  
“No,” Sho said. “Bring the food and refreshments here. The Saiphan king and I have matters to attend to. When we’re done, we’ll leave the plates and trays in the hall.”  
  
“As you wish, Your Majesty. Please excuse me.”  
  
The attendant left as quickly as she came, and Jun gave Sho a look.  
  
“You think that was amusing,” he said.  
  
“Did you see her face? She certainly didn’t expect to find me here,” Sho said, smiling. “I wonder what kind of gossip that will make.”  
  
Jun couldn’t help his face from flushing, but he didn’t dare move away. “Lucida Ventris was one thing, but your mother is here. What will she say?”  
  
“Exactly what she said to me after she met you,” Sho told him. “I heard you’ve met.”  
  
“We have,” Jun said. “What did she say?”  
  
“That she took one look at you and she knew why,” Sho said, scowling. Jun laughed. “Mothers, really. They think they know everything.”  
  
Jun decided to be bolder, cupping Sho’s face in one hand and turning it towards him. “Matters to attend to?”  
  
“I was talking about war affairs,” Sho said despite him looking at Jun’s mouth. “You do know our men are trying to take back Esdes as we sit here?”  
  
“I know that,” Jun said. “Is that all?”  
  
“For now,” Sho said. “There will be time for this.” He glanced briefly between them before he looked at Jun once more. “Whatever this is that’s happening between us.”  
  
Jun ran his thumb over Sho’s plump lips, cherishing their warmth. “All right,” he said, pulling back. “All right.”  
  
“I’d kiss you,” Sho said suddenly, surprising Jun, “but the food will be here any moment.”  
  
Jun shuffled closer to him. “And if I ask?”  
  
“Don’t,” Sho said.  
  
“Kiss me,” Jun said. “You know it’s me now. You know who I am now, who I truly am. If you want me still, kiss me.”  
  
Sho’s fingers returned to his lips, tracing the contour of them. “A part of me always knew who you were. The other part chose to believe otherwise because I was terrified. We weren’t supposed to meet, let alone—”  
  
“Sleep together?” Jun supplied.  
  
“How eloquent,” Sho said with a slight laugh. “I was going to say ‘work together and eventually become intimate’, but I suppose your rather crude phrasing works too.” His nail scraped the small dot on Jun’s chin before he let go. “You’re awfully tempting.”  
  
Sho stood but Jun caught his arm, and he used it as leverage to pull himself up. They were on their feet now, standing too close to be deemed respectable, but Jun didn’t care.  
  
“I won’t force you,” Jun said. “I will never.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said. “I’m here on my own free will.”  
  
Jun still had his hand clasped around Sho’s forearm, and Sho didn’t look like he’d pull away any moment. “I wanted you then,” he admitted. “And I want you now just as much. That never changed. I...don’t think it will.”  
  
Sho had to stand on his toes to reach the height, but soon, Jun felt him dropping a kiss to each of his eyelids, where his tears from earlier had caught.  
  
“If you ask,” Sho whispered between them, “I’ll stay.”  
  
“Stay,” Jun said helplessly. “Stay the night. We don’t have to do anything. I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”  
  
“You won’t be,” Sho said, and Jun finally let him go when they heard the doors sliding open once more.  
  
\--  
  
They talked the entire night. Of war, of consequences, of their duties and responsibilities, of the transmission. Jun began planning, consulting Sho about it and listening to what he had to say.  
  
“You can’t go to Saiph,” was what Sho told him after he’d implied it. “Your sister already said so. Assuming what she says is true—”  
  
“I believe it is,” Jun said.  
  
Sho ignored him. “—then not only she is in danger but you are as well. You’re my responsibility as long as the treaty holds, and as Emperor of Hamal, I’m forbidding you to use your authority to command my people so you can return to your planet.”  
  
Just to annoy him, Jun asked, “And if I command my people instead?”  
  
“You will never be granted clearance to leave the spacedock so don’t waste your time,” Sho said. “Have you tried tracing the transmission to its channel source? I keep wondering how it got past our communication buffers.”  
  
“It’s beyond my capability,” Jun admitted. “All I know is that it’s a private channel, unfiltered and undetectable.”  
  
“I will need more details than that,” Sho said. “Run the diagnostics. We can have Daigo-kun look at it. Overhearing conversations is a part of his specialty.”  
  
Jun got to work with a small laugh escaping from him. “He calls it that?”  
  
“No, I do,” Sho said. “I prefer it than eavesdropping. It’s less intentional.”  
  
Jun let his pad collate the data needed, swiveling on his chair to look at Sho, who leaned against the desk. They both look like they needed sleep, but Sho didn’t yawn even once.  
  
“You don’t think I should go by myself,” Jun said. “If she needs a rescue, you want me to send somebody else. Shun, perhaps.”  
  
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out,” Sho said. In another time, Jun would’ve rolled his eyes. “Here’s what I propose: once Daigo-kun figures out how you got that transmission, we’ll send a similar message using the same channel, encrypted and untraceable so they can’t locate where you are if it’s a trap.”  
  
That part, Jun had already deduced. “You want me to tell her the truth.”  
  
“That you’ll help her? Yes,” Sho admitted. “If it’s a trap, she’ll think you’re falling for it. If it isn’t, then we’ll have more information and can react accordingly. You have the propensity for being rash once you get carried away by your emotions. I’m trying to prevent that from happening.”  
  
Jun said nothing, instead only looked at Sho. Was this how it felt like, to have someone by his side?  
  
“You’re not going to tell anyone about this?” Jun asked after a moment.  
  
“I have no one else to tell,” Sho said, looking at him.  
  
“You’re saying we should do nothing at the moment,” Jun told him.  
  
“I’m saying we wait it out. I understand how you feel, but your sister is still the one on the throne. Her mother—if what your sister claims is true—cannot do away with her just yet. Not when she still has the power, is still the face of the planet. As long as she has the crown, she’s safe.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have declared myself,” Jun said. “I shouldn’t have told everyone in that broadcast.”  
  
“No,” Sho said immediately, an edge to his voice. “Look at me.”  
  
Jun did, and he followed Sho with his eyes as Sho crouched before him, their gazes level with one another.  
  
“You didn’t know,” Sho said. “You couldn’t have known. This isn’t something you could have prevented. Stop blaming yourself.”  
  
“But if I didn’t show up, she’d still be safe,” Jun said, guilt gnawing inside him. “No matter what you say, this is still on me. If something happens to her, it’ll be my fault.”  
  
“No,” Sho said, shaking his head. “Listen to me.” He cupped Jun’s jaw and held him in place. “You had no idea of how cruel her mother could be. You couldn’t have known. You had no idea your sister would be pushed to do something like this. You couldn’t have saved her. She never asked for any saving.”  
  
“Because she’s always the one protecting me,” Jun said. “Since we were children, that was what she was. When she went away, I thought I had to be strong enough since she was no longer around.” He looked at his feet. “In the end, I still needed the protection.”  
  
“Because you keep doing stupid things,” Sho said admonishingly. Jun glared at him. “Oh please. You know you do. But that still doesn’t justify you blaming yourself. You couldn’t have foreseen this.”  
  
Jun studied Sho’s face, at the way he looked so convinced and certain. It took him a moment, but then: “You don’t really think it’s a trap.”  
  
Sho withdrew and stood, but it was too late—Jun knew he’d been right.  
  
“What are you not telling me?” Jun asked.  
  
Sho exhaled, shoulders slumping. He looked weary. “You asked once, nearly a month ago to be exact, about what happened to my aunt.”  
  
Jun nodded.  
  
“She was working with Inamine, planting seeds in the council to eventually overthrow my mother through the civil war. Inamine was tasked to dispose of me in Lucida Ventris, but thanks to you, that plan never came to fruition.”  
  
“What happened to her?”  
  
“She had a trial on the day after I was crowned. There, she was found guilty of treason by the council after they did a thorough search in her quarters and found evidences of the poison she used on me and my mother. But that wasn’t all that they;d found.”  
  
Sho didn’t speak, and it took Jun a few beats, but when it hit him, he felt hollow.  
  
“Tell me it’s not Saiphan currency,” he begged in a small voice.  
  
Sho didn’t utter a word, and Jun took it for his answer.  
  
“How much?” Jun asked.  
  
“Enough to fund a war,” Sho said. “I didn’t tell you because my mother suspected you the moment you had sent that transmission to Iseya-kun. It took me an entire night to convince her to think otherwise, not too different from a night like this.”  
  
“I don’t have that kind of money,” Jun said. “All my assets are gone, likely confiscated the moment my disappearance was made public.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said. “That’s why I was so sure it wasn’t you. Why else would you have saved my life then, if you had been the mastermind?” Sho smiled. “You’re often unpredictable, but not _that_ unpredictable.”  
  
“You think Rina’s mother is behind it,” Jun said.  
  
“Yes. I believe her plan, had it worked, was to put my aunt in the throne so she could rule Hamal through her. It was an indirect conquest. On paper, Hamal would be an independent planet, perhaps an ally of Saiph when they sorted out their differences, but in reality, my aunt would have to play according to the rules. That’s why I don’t fully believe it’s a trap. It could be—and I’m not disregarding that possibility—but I find it unlikely. More so since your sister told you not to go back.”  
  
It was too much for one day. Jun felt exhausted and helpless. He’d been ignorant all this time, oblivious to how jealousy could take root.  
  
“She was queen before I came along,” Jun said.  
  
He saw Sho frown. “Your sister?”  
  
“Her mother,” Jun explained. “My father had Rina with her, but it had been a difficult pregnancy. They tried to have more children but ended up losing them all during infancy. Then my father married my mother, and I was born then.” Jun shut his eyes at the memory. “My mother was hailed by the people as their queen upon my birth. The records say she’s still the king’s mistress, but after Rina abdicated, she became the queen.”  
  
“And you became the heir,” Sho said. He didn’t seem to like what he was about to say next. “You’re the only one left.”  
  
Jun froze, and he feared the line of Sho’s thought. Sho was clever, and he’d undoubtedly make the same conclusion.  
  
He heard Sho exhale. “Jun.”  
  
“I never realized it until I got the transmission,” Jun admitted, heat prickling at the corner of his eyes once more. “My mother died when I hit thirty. It was a rare disease with a swift progression, the physicians said. But I’m starting to think that’s not it at all.” He could feel Sho looking at him. “Then I lost my father. I can’t lose Rina too. She’s all I have left.”  
  
Sho stood right in front of him, and Jun felt fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him forward. He allowed the tears to fall once he had his forehead pressed against Sho’s trunk, basking in the comfort and warmth. Sho held him close and didn’t move nor speak.  
  
“I never got to mourn them,” Jun said. “Both of them. When my mother passed away, I thought I had to look strong since all eyes in my planet would be on me. And when my father died, it all happened too fast. I—”  
  
“Take what you need,” Sho said, fingers stroking his scalp soothingly. “I’m sorry you had to lose your family like this. Nobody deserves that. But I can’t offer anything despite being the emperor of this planet. This...this is all I can give. And I don’t know if it’s enough.”  
  
Jun linked his arms around Sho’s waist, holding him close, clinging to whatever Sho was giving him. There’d never be another time.  
  
“I’m making a mess out of your tunic,” Jun said, pulling back a bit to wipe at his eyes.  
  
“It’s just fabric,” Sho said. “It’s all right. If you want me to pretend this didn’t happen, I can close my eyes.”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “This isn’t something I’d want to forget. I want to remember this. It’s the only time I’m allowing myself to give in.”  
  
“You love too much,” Sho told him. “You trust too much.”  
  
“That’s my flaw,” Jun acknowledged.  
  
“No, it isn’t,” Sho said, moving back a little to cup his face in his hands, have him look at Sho’s eyes once more. “You’re not to blame for anything that’s happened to you. Never think that.”  
  
Jun saw the fierceness in Sho’s gaze and understood. Sho would know. He’d been fighting his entire life, surviving one horrific attempt on his life after another. Had Sho had anyone who’d told him the same things he was telling Jun? It was unlikely.  
  
Jun’s heart broke for him. Sho had been fighting alone for years, and yet Sho had never allowed Jun to feel the same. Sho had never made him feel he was alone, that he had no one. Sho had never abandoned him.  
  
Jun rose to his feet and pulled Sho close, holding him there. “You love too much,” he said. He felt Sho go still in his arms. “You do. You’re just better at hiding it compared to me, but I see it. I see you. We’re not really that different.” His arms wrapped tighter for a moment. “I guess that’s why we ended up...like this.”  
  
“Like what?” Sho asked.  
  
“Inevitable,” Jun said. “Tell me I won’t lose you too.”  
  
“You won’t,” Sho said. His hands came up, clinging to Jun’s shoulders.  
  
It was impossible. One way or another, Jun would have to make a choice. And he’d choose his kingdom—they both knew it. But if he could have both…  
  
He knew he was selfish. But he couldn’t help himself, always wanting more.  
  
For a moment, they held each other. Sho felt real—was real. He was here right now with Jun, and Jun allowed himself to believe Sho’s words.  
  
“I’m scared,” he admitted quietly. “Of so many things. I’m afraid I’ll be too late to help Rina, in the same way I was unable to help my mother and father. I’d do anything to prevent that from happening again, but I’m scared it won’t be enough.”  
  
“I will fight with you if that’s what it takes,” Sho said, “in the same way you fought with me. If you think I’ll leave you now or I’ll start anytime soon, you’re sorely mistaken.”  
  
We could stay like this, Jun thought indulgently, until we both don’t want to anymore.  
  
“We still have the rest of the night,” Jun said.  
  
He heard Sho laugh. “If you think that’s going to make me fall to your bed, you overestimate yourself.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant,” Jun said, reddening. “Stop laughing.”  
  
“You’re suggesting we sleep, yes?” He heard more than saw Sho smile. “Just sleep.”  
  
“Just sleep,” Jun echoed.  
  
“All right,” Sho said, letting him go.  
  
“Won’t they look for you?” Jun asked belatedly, when he was watching Sho move towards the bed.  
  
“They will,” Sho said. “I’m assuming the attendant earlier already told everyone where the Emperor of Hamal decided to stay the night.”  
  
“You love the attention,” Jun concluded.  
  
“I’ve had the attention all my life,” Sho said. “I’m used to it.” He dressed down quickly, leaving his tunic and trousers on, and got under the covers. He tapped the space next to him. “Well? You know I don’t like waiting.”  
  
Jun smiled and stalked towards the bed, climbing over it and settling on his side so he could look at Sho. It had been a while since they’d shared a bed.  
  
“I know you’ll have something smart to say when I ask how you feel about being the center of attention,” Jun said.  
  
“I feel like I can do better,” Sho said. “Put it this way: I stay celibate, they talk. I don’t, they still talk.” Sho turned to his side and looked at him. “I’m not here for their approval. Though, I hardly think there’s anyone who won’t approve of a king. You should have heard how my people fawned over you when they saw you for the first time. You’d think they were never raised to think of you as the enemy.”  
  
Jun could feel his face heating up. “Lights at five percent,” he said, hoping to conceal it.  
  
Sho laughed. “Please, you know how you look like. I’m hardly the first person to compliment you.”  
  
“Just one of the few who matter,” Jun whispered.  
  
“Really?” Sho smiled. “I can imagine how you charmed all those suitors you had. You must have been very popular. When this war is over, you’ll be even more so.”  
  
“I won’t entertain them,” Jun said.  
  
“Don’t be absurd. You have to secure your throne once it becomes yours once more.”  
  
“There are other ways,” Jun said stubbornly. “When this war is over, would you—”  
  
He paused, uncertain. He had many things he wanted to ask and had no idea where to start. They didn’t have any idea of what was to come. Their future was uncertain.  
  
“Would I what?” Sho asked curiously.  
  
Jun pursed his lips. “For starters, would you like to see Saiph? With me?” Sho blinked at him. “The color of our seas is different—it’s blue, not green. Our skies are almost often blue too, except when there are storms. The royal palace isn’t like the one you have here; it’s not on a cliff. It floats with a citadel and can only be reached by spacecrafts or any ferry. I kept a garden there where I tended to whatever caught my fancy. I have this small tree that only blooms in season, and I think it bears the same flower as the one you use as your crest. I—I’d love for you see that, even once.”  
  
For a moment, Sho didn’t speak. He simply looked at Jun in the darkness, his expression hidden in shadows and mostly unreadable. The silence ate at Jun, adding to his nervousness. He almost took his words back, but then:  
  
“Yes,” Sho said, smiling and making Jun’s heart swell. “Yes, I’d like that.”  
  
\--  
  
Shun and Aiba returned victorious: Esdes remained a part of Hamal, and with the rest of the Saiphan army arriving at Sheratan, they had enough forces to conduct a siege.  
  
Jun studied all the information they had on hand, and together with Shun, they made plans on how to take the palace. It was the only way they’d get in. They couldn’t face the royal army at the planet’s gates, but if they could take the palace, they’d win.  
  
They laid out the plans to Sho, who listened without interrupting. Ohno and Aiba were with him, and they saved all the questions when Jun finished speaking.  
  
“How will we get into the planet without using the gates?” Ohno asked.  
  
“In the same way I arrived here,” Jun said. It was no secret to everyone present. “With half of the Saiphan army defecting, they need more men. They have to be receiving reinforcements at present, perhaps from the colonies under Saiph’s protection.”  
  
“I can sneak in,” Shun said. “I know the palace. I grew up in it. There are passageways unbeknownst to servants and I know how to navigate them. I just need to be able to slip undetected into the planet.”  
  
“By now, you two,” Sho said, pointing to Jun and Shun, “are the most wanted men in Saiph. You can’t hope to sneak into the planet without anyone noticing. Even if we send our forces to the gates to serve as a distraction, the palace will surely be heavily guarded. I have no doubt regarding your capabilities, but as long as those gates surrounding your planet stand, it will not work.”  
  
“Then we disable the gates,” Jun said. “It can be done from the inside.”  
  
Sho gave him a look. “No one here has the ability to enter Saiph undetected. I have a former spy as part of my men, yes, but even he hasn’t stepped foot on that planet.” He turned to Shun. “How did you escape the last time you were there?”  
  
“I picked the lock,” Shun said simply.  
  
“You’re saying you can pull the same trick with the gates?” Sho asked.  
  
“Yes,” Shun said. “Your Majesty,” he added. “I know those gates. My father was the former Captain of the King’s Guard. He was there when those gates were built and he taught me how to reinforce them as the technology advanced.”  
  
“So you can also dismantle the defensive maneuvers as long as you’re inside,” Sho said. He faced Ohno. “Is there no other way we can sneak this man into that planet?”  
  
“It’s too risky,” Ohno said. “They know their faces. If we send somebody else, they can enter the planet, yes, but they lack the knowledge to disable those gates.”  
  
“We can always take the war here instead of going there,” Sho said.  
  
“And lose our advantage?” Jun asked. “Right now, they’re struggling to gather soldiers for their army. This is the right time. We’ll never have another chance if we sit here and linger.”  
  
“Then tell me: will you risk your captain, knowing very well that he might die if he is discovered?” Sho asked, staring at him.  
  
Jun fell silent. He couldn’t. Ohno had been right: it was too much of a risk. But there’d never be another time like this. If they wait, the Saiphan army would eventually gather enough forces to invade Hamal.  
  
“I won’t be discovered,” Shun said. They all turned to him and he shrugged. “Give me your best pilot.”  
  
Sho let out a bark of laughter. “My best pilot is your king.” To Jun: “And before you can even consider it: no. You can’t act convincingly. The moment they ask for your permit, you’ll be discovered.”  
  
Jun felt a bit insulted. He’d lasted months in Sho’s camp and none of Sho’s men had discovered who he truly was. But Sho gave him this look that clearly said: Don’t even think of saying it, and Jun averted his eyes.  
  
Then he remembered.  
  
“There is one other pilot who can pretend to be a handler and can fly a ship as good as I can,” Jun said.  
  
Ohno hummed, and Jun caught Aiba smiling.  
  
“You sent him home,” Sho said.  
  
“I didn’t,” Jun said. “You did. But Alnitak is still under my planet’s protection, and I think he will answer to his king.”  
  
Sho looked thoughtful, his forefinger resting idly on his lips. It was a little distracting for Jun. “You think you can convince him to return to where the war is? He just escaped it.”  
  
Sho’s fingertip pressed lightly on his bottom lip.  
  
“Jun,” Sho said, lowering his hand.  
  
“I—” Jun said, clearing his throat. They were all looking at him, and Shun had this knowing grin plastered on his face. He reached for his pad and began looking for a private channel. “I think I can.”  
  
“You seem very confident,” Sho said. “What do you have to offer him? He has his freedom now; he can’t possibly want anything else.”  
  
Jun smiled, waiting for his channel to connect so he could set things up. “I’ve been practicing.” He could see Sho’s confusion, with the way Sho’s eyes were narrowed. “I think he’ll come when I ask. After all, I owe him a card game.”  
  
\--  
  
“What happened to the princeling this time?”  
  
It was Nino’s welcome for them as soon as Jun’s transmission had patched through. Jun enabled a holo so everyone could see Nino’s face.  
  
“He’s emperor now,” Jun said. “Surely you know that?”  
  
“Is he there?” Nino looked behind Jun, and Jun heard a shuffle of movement. “Of course he is. What do I call you now that princeling is no longer applicable?”  
  
“Emperor,” Sho said flatly.  
  
Nino laughed. “Cute.” Then to Jun: “What do you need?”  
  
He hadn’t changed. His way of communicating was still uniquely him, and Jun found himself smiling. “Your help.”  
  
“You mean my skills,” Nino corrected knowingly. “I heard you’re king.”  
  
Jun was hoping that wouldn’t come up, but Nino wouldn’t be Nino if he hadn’t kept himself updated despite being far from the center of the fray. “I’m trying to be.”  
  
“If you’re king, that means I’m under the protection of your crown,” Nino said. “I’m your subject.”  
  
“That’s how it is, yes,” Jun agreed.  
  
“Are you going to command me? You have every right.”  
  
Jun thought about it and the idea didn’t sit right with him. “I know you’re happy where you are. I can see it on your face. If you say yes, I’ll be taking you away from what makes you happy. If you agree to help me, I’ll be taking you back to war, to fight with us once more. And I have nothing to offer you except your freedom if we are victorious.”  
  
“I’m already free.” Nino tilted his head to the side. “You’re not very good at commanding people.”  
  
“No, I’m not,” Jun admitted. “I don’t like using force.”  
  
“You’re not ordering me to return,” Nino said.  
  
Jun shook his head.  
  
“But you need me for something because otherwise you wouldn’t have risked this transmission,” Nino said.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Nino looked over his shoulder, giving them the side of his face. “I have two nieces,” he said suddenly, “and one nephew. The nephew calls me uncle. The other two just call me Kazunari. My sister’s daughters through and through, I guess.” He faced Jun once more. “I already ran out of stories to tell them and still, they ask for more.”  
  
Jun couldn’t help smiling.  
  
“Is Oh-chan there?” Nino asked suddenly, and Ohno stepped into view. “I don’t have a ship.”  
  
“We gave you one,” Ohno said, frowning. “It was our fastest, too.”  
  
“And I gave it to my sister as a gift for all those years I missed her birthday,” Nino said. “Were you expecting me to return it?”  
  
“I hoped,” Ohno said, sighing. He looked at Sho and said, “Permission to pick him up from Alnitak, Your Majesty.”  
  
“Granted,” Sho said immediately.  
  
Nino smiled. “I told lots of stories about your metal arm to these kids and they don’t believe me. I guess I just have to show them.”  
  
“I’m not your mascot,” Ohno said, but he didn’t seem angry.  
  
“No, you’re officially my chauffeur,” Nino said pleasantly. He looked at Jun once more. “Expect me in a week, Your Majesty. If I’m delayed, blame the captain.”  
  
“Thank you,” Jun said sincerely.  
  
“Save it when I’m there. I hope you’ve gotten better at cards.”  
  
Jun grinned. “I guess I’ll just have to show you.”  
  
Nino shot him a salute and ended the transmission, and Jun closed the channel before turning to look at Sho.  
  
“We can get in,” Jun said. “We just have to explain everything to Nino and I think he can easily improvise if the situation warranted it.”  
  
“Very well. Ninomiya and your captain to disable the gates,” Sho said with a nod. “Ohno, Aiba, and the rest of us on the front lines. In two or three weeks from now, we take our troops to Saiph and put that palace under siege.”  
  
“And if they ask to parley?” Aiba asked.  
  
“We hear them out,” Sho said, and Jun just nodded. “But they don’t have anything we want, and so we stick to the plan.”  
  
There was a collective noise of affirmation from everyone present, and Sho stood, looking at Aiba. “Begin preparations. As soon as Ninomiya arrives, we put the plan in motion. I want all the men to be ready.”  
  
Aiba nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”  
  
To Shun, Jun said, “Have the men train. Ohno had these drills he implemented back in the outskirts and they were effective. Ask him about it. I think it’s time to have our men interact with who’s going to fight on their side—the Hamali.”  
  
“You want a cultural exchange to happen?” Shun asked.  
  
“I think it’s time,” Jun said. “We start with the training.” He faced Sho, who was watching them. “Will you let your men spar with mine should it be necessary?”  
  
“Can your men put up a fight?” Sho asked challengingly. “We have Keiko. And Kiko.”  
  
“We’ll see,” Jun said. “Is that a yes?”  
  
“Why not? It might be simultaneously entertaining and productive,” Sho said. He nodded at Shun. “If any Hamali protests, tell them their emperor has commanded it. They are free to forward their concerns to my captain, who will direct them to me.”  
  
“As you wish,” Shun said, bowing to them both.  
  
Jun dismissed him, and in moments, he and Sho were alone.  
  
“You didn’t tell them about Rina’s transmission,” Jun said after a moment.  
  
“No,” Sho said. “Have you decided how you’re going to help her?”  
  
“I was hoping it’ll be through Nino and Shun when they manage to enter the planet,” Jun said. “Once the gates are opened and its defenses are disabled, in the ensuing chaos, they can try to find her and bring her into their ship before going back to our side.”  
  
“You will risk informing your sister of our plan,” Sho said.  
  
“I have to,” Jun said. “You don’t agree.”  
  
“I’m being cautious,” Sho said. “If this is a trap, we have no way to open those gates and will be slaughtered without so much a glimpse at your planet.”  
  
“What would you have me do? I can’t abandon her.” Jun sat, suddenly weary. He sighed in exhaustion. “I don’t know what’s happening. She could already be suffering in the hands of her mother for all I know.”  
  
“But if she’s truly your sister, she’ll hold on,” Sho said. “You survived in my camp.”  
  
“Are you saying it runs in the blood? You don’t know that. I only made it in your camp because I knew I had to if I wanted to return to my planet.”  
  
“I’m saying she sent you in the hands of someone who was very likely to kill you and she believed you’d find a way to prevent that from happening. She knew what you would do. Now tell me, what would your sister do?”  
  
Jun considered it. “She’d buy herself time.”  
  
“The reinforcements,” Sho said. “Our ongoing patrols have already spotted handler ships appearing in the trade routes leading to Saiph. But we both know she doesn’t have a lot of time left.”  
  
“And she knows that as well,” Jun said. “If her mother discovers what she’s done, I don’t know what might happen. Her mother never took a liking to me and when we were children, Rina made sure she wasn’t around when we would play together. I don’t know how her mother thinks.”  
  
“But you know how she might act,” Sho said.  
  
Jun shut his eyes. “I don’t want it to come to that. Rina is still her daughter. I don’t think she’ll harm her own child.”  
  
“That’s not what you think, that’s what you want to believe,” Sho said.  
  
A part of me didn’t believe it, Sho had told him once, that people I treated as family would hurt me.  
  
Sho would know.  
  
“Expect the worst,” Sho said. “They’re on the losing side of the war. What do you think she’ll do?”  
  
“Be desperate,” Jun said after a moment.  
  
“If they’re getting reinforcements, I think they’re desperate already,” Sho said. “I’ve been there. I know how that feels. Do you think she’s safe at the moment?”  
  
“I would know if she isn’t,” Jun said. “She’d have found a way to inform me immediately.”  
  
“Then we do nothing,” Sho said.  
  
“I can’t just sit here and wait for something to happen to her,” Jun snapped.  
  
“That’s not what I said.”  
  
“No, that’s what you’re implying.” Jun could feel the anger slowly rising in him. “She’s still my sister, my family. She’s all I’ve got.”  
  
“I know. What would you give, then? If it meant keeping your sister safe?”  
  
“Anything,” Jun answered immediately. “You would do the same if you were in my position.”  
  
Jun had expected a hard truth in the form of a cruel rebuff, but Sho didn’t refute him, only watched him. Jun knew he couldn’t hide any of his emotions well, and what he was feeling at present had to be obvious to Sho.  
  
“It will not come to that,” Sho said softly, turning his back to Jun.  
  
“Is that what you think? Or is that what you want me to believe in?” Jun asked.  
  
Sho stood very still, his eyes fixed on a part of the wall.  
  
“No,” Sho said after Jun had begun to think he wouldn’t reply. “It’s what I hope for.”  
  
\--  
  
For a week, Jun supervised the training of his men. He remained in the palace grounds, watching the drills, the sparring sessions. He watched as his men gradually grew to respect the Hamali after each spar, how they slowly became comfortable with dining with one another. It would be a long time before they’d be able to see past their differences, but it was a start.  
  
Nino’s arrival in Hamal happened on a rainy night, and after explaining the plan to him in detail, he agreed to join Jun’s cause provided Jun had a reward for him.  
  
“I don’t have any more assets to my name,” Jun said, “but if you help me win my crown, whatever amount you want will be yours.”  
  
“I’m not talking about money,” Nino said. They were in the corner of the banquet hall, a final feast prepared in Hamal before they went to war the following morning. Nino had made sure they were hidden behind a pillar. “I can steal that anytime. Not that I have to; I think I like the idea of retirement from the outer rim after this.”  
  
“I have nothing else to give you,” Jun said. “There are no other spoils of war you can possibly want.”  
  
“There is something I want that only you can give to me,” Nino said. “Full pardon.”  
  
Jun stilled, studying Nino’s rather youthful face. He seemed serious with what he was asking for.  
  
“While the princeling did give me my freedom, I’m still a wanted man. According to Saiphan laws, only the Saiphan king can revoke the warrant his military has issued. I want full pardon in exchange for my services.”  
  
“That can be done,” Jun said, “but what’s my reassurance you won’t fall into the same lifestyle again? You left Alnitak to search for something you couldn’t find in the planet. What’s my guarantee you won’t use the pardon to rekindle your old ways?”  
  
“The fact that there’s someone waiting for me in Alnitak,” Nino said. “I had enough of the galaxy. I went home and left again as per your request. I ask to be allowed to remain in my home planet permanently.”  
  
“If this alliance between Saiph and Hamal holds even after the war, Saiphan laws will be bound to Hamal and vice versa. If I give you your pardon, you will also no longer be a criminal under Hamali law.” Jun let out a breath. Sho would have words with him. “Full pardon in exchange for your services. You will only have it when I’m king.”  
  
Nino smiled, extending his hand like a merchant who had successfully brokered a deal. Jun shook it. “Then I’ll make sure your captain can get in and disable those gates.” He excused himself with a bow, and Jun watched him go.  
  
He found himself leaning against the pillar, thinking about all the promises he’d made since he’d declared himself King of Saiph. Nino’s full pardon was the least of them. To others, he’d promised promotion, wealth, honor—things he could only attain provided he won the throne. Their plan wasn’t foolproof; they could be leading their armies to an ambush.  
  
Jun glanced to his side and saw the celebrations ongoing with such liveliness that one would think these weren’t men heading to war the following morning. With the Hamali rum becoming familiar to his men, he saw them becoming more amenable with letting go of their inhibitions. Conversations accompanied by laughter were everywhere.  
  
For a moment, Jun allowed himself to imagine what it’d be like to have something like this as an everyday scenario—Saiphans and Hamali eating, drinking, and laughing together. It was the kind of harmony his father had believed to be impossible. Now that Jun thought about it, perhaps his father hadn’t been to this part of the Hamali palace. He was in a place his father hadn’t set foot on, had done things his father had never accomplished despite his wisdom.  
  
He hadn’t thought that would be possible. He’d been content to think of his father as his role model, to be the kind of king he’d been, but his stay here had changed that perspective and now he wished to be someone better. The feud with Hamal couldn’t be settled by forcing their people to submission. He had been wrong to believe that.  
  
His people and Sho’s believed that they all had descended from one common ancestor. Perhaps that was true, in the way Jun could gradually feel the acceptance, the growing respect. In his heart, he hoped it could usher a brighter beginning for generations to come.  
  
“Any particular reason why the Saiphan king is lurking behind a pillar like a common page?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun turned, and found Sho leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He had to be there for some time; his posture was too relaxed. He appeared to have been drinking—his cheeks were a bit flushed.  
  
“I was thinking,” Jun said.  
  
“In my experience, that is usually not a very good sign,” Sho said. “Thinking about the war?”  
  
“No, after,” Jun clarified. “The future. My men are more comfortable with yours after the drills and the spars.”  
  
“Yes, Keiko seemed rather intent on pulverizing them one by one for the past few days,” Sho said. “But I suppose that had some merits. Look at them now, laughing with their arms around each other’s shoulders. You’d think their planets weren’t enemies for centuries.”  
  
“My father never imagined that something like this could happen,” Jun said, turning back to the hall. “That Saiphans and Hamali can coexist without prejudice and hatred. He thought that was wishful thinking.”  
  
“Then you proved him wrong,” Sho said.  
  
“We did,” Jun said. “I didn’t do this alone.”  
  
He heard movement and felt a hand slip into his. His breath caught in his throat as he faced Sho.  
  
“Come with me,” Sho said, pulling him to the shadows. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”  
  
Jun smiled and let himself be led. They walked towards a wall, and Sho must’ve done something because soon, a portion of the wall disappeared to reveal a passageway. It was dark, but when the door behind them slid shut, the tunnel became illuminated.  
  
“Is this wise? Showing me the secret passageways of your palace?” Jun asked as they walked together.  
  
“You can return the favor when we get to your planet,” Sho said. His grip on Jun’s hand loosened, but Jun tugged him back.  
  
“It’s the last night,” was all Jun said. He didn’t know what could happen tomorrow, but he knew he had to make the most of whatever time they had left.  
  
Sho didn’t say anything and resumed walking, only stopping when they reached a corner. Sho took a left, pulling Jun with him, and Jun started to wonder where they were going.  
  
“Did you do this often when you were a kid?” he asked.  
  
“What, leaving a banquet with the king of another planet? Be more specific.”  
  
Jun snorted. “I meant sneaking around your palace at night.”  
  
He could hear Sho smile. “Yes. It was me who taught my siblings about these passageways. I would sneak them out of their rooms and take them to the observatory when it was past midnight, because by then the moon was fully out and the stars looked beautiful. You’re going to ask who taught me about these passageways.”  
  
Of course he knew. “Yes. Will you tell me?”  
  
“My father,” Sho said. To Jun’s knowledge, Sho’s father had long passed away. “You see, I was mocked for my health. And often, I wished to be alone and had to devise ways to get to places without being seen. At one point, I grew tired of all the running and hiding from the sons and daughters of nobles who ridiculed and bullied me. I went to my father and asked him to make me invisible when I was three. He took me here.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jun said, truly meaning it.  
  
Sho seemed surprised. “What for?”  
  
“Perhaps I made you remember something you’d rather not,” Jun said.  
  
“It’s in the past,” Sho said dismissively. “If anything, the petty insults of children made me wish to survive longer than they expected. They were the same claimants I’ve defeated at Lucida Ventris. This is what their mockery has achieved.”  
  
Jun thought Sho was braver in many ways he’d never be. He never had to deal with anything like that. As a child, his only problem had been his own shyness. As he’d grown, he’d gained confidence, and he’d been too quick to forget about the days he’d had no friends.  
  
“Did you have anyone?” Jun asked. They reached a stop, and Sho faced him, head tilted to the side. “When you were a kid, I mean.”  
  
“I had my siblings,” Sho said. “Do you feel sorry for me now?”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “But maybe, had we gotten to know each other in youth, you didn’t have to be so alone. I...would’ve followed you, I think.”  
  
“You’re following me now,” Sho said. He pressed his palm against a console Jun hadn’t noticed before. “We’re here.”  
  
The door before them swooshed open, and Jun had been here before. He hadn’t gotten a good look the first time, but he’d been here, listening in the shadows for any signs of the Emperor Apparent.  
  
Sho led him around, past bookshelves that nearly touched the ceiling. Jun didn’t know where to look—all he could see were books and when he inhaled, he smelled parchment.  
  
“Your Majesty!” the head librarian said in surprise, her trunk lowering in a formal bow. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”  
  
“Empty the library, master librarian,” Sho said with a smile. “I’d like to have it for myself for tonight.”  
  
The head librarian cast a quick glance at Jun and their linked hands. Jun didn’t dare let go. “For yourself, Majesty?”  
  
“And the Saiphan king,” Sho said brightly.  
  
“As you wish,” the librarian said. If she had something else to say, she kept it to herself, turning on her heel to bark orders.  
  
In minutes, the library was empty, and the head librarian excused herself after Sho had confirmed they wouldn’t need anything. When they heard the main doors slide shut, Sho finally let him go.  
  
“You can start wherever you like,” Sho said. “The pads are in the corridor to your left. The master librarian keeps it separate from the books because she hates the noise they emit when people use the audiobook function.”  
  
“Show me your favorites,” Jun said. “You told me reading became a habit of yours.”  
  
Sho looked hesitant, but when Jun thought he’d decline, he tilted his head and led the way without a word. They walked past a couple of shelves, heading to the back of the library, one where the lights overhead had grown considerably dimmer.  
  
Sho stopped when they reached a shelf filled with books. Jun didn’t dare approach or touch anything, standing behind Sho and waiting.  
  
“I never had anyone to show this to before,” Sho said. He didn’t look at Jun. “I’ve been ridiculed all my life and I...I was afraid I’d still be mocked for what I included here. Even if this is already my safe space.” He looked over his shoulder. “Some of these might bore you.”  
  
“They’re part of you,” Jun said, taking a step forward. He took another when Sho didn’t appear to object. “If you’d let me, I’d like to know all parts of you.”  
  
Sho reached up and pulled a tome from the shelf. He had to blow on its cover to be rid of the dust, and when he was satisfied, he handed the volume to Jun. “I took that one from the restricted section. Never returned it since.”  
  
Jun grinned, accepting the book. “What a mischievous child.”  
  
“I took it because they said I was too stupid to understand what it says,” Sho said. Jun opened the book and saw that it was a collection of star charts and meteor storm predictions. “Needless to say, I proved them wrong.”  
  
“You’ve been doing that a lot for a long time,” Jun said. “You’ve done it to me.”  
  
Sho faced him. “Why? Because you were raised to hate me as much as I was taught you were the enemy?”  
  
“No,” Jun said. Then he amended, “Well, yes, that too, but I was talking about Denebia.”  
  
“Denebia?” Sho frowned.  
  
“Before Denebia,” Jun clarified. “When you sent Daigo-san home.”  
  
“You told me to,” Sho said. “I followed your advice and it proved to be the right thing to do.”  
  
“That’s the thing,” Jun said, smiling. “I never thought I could make you do anything.”  
  
“You’d find that if you ask me for something, I’d consider it seriously,” Sho said. “Especially now.”  
  
Jun moved closer to Sho’s space, the book held on his side. It made Sho press his back against the shelf, and Jun could see the rise and fall of Sho’s chest.  
  
“I asked you once to kiss me,” Jun whispered, as if anyone might hear them. “You refused.”  
  
“That didn’t mean I didn’t want to at that time,” Sho said.  
  
“Do you want to? Right now?” Jun asked. They were a breath away, and Jun wanted to give in.  
  
“Ask,” Sho said teasingly, his full lips curving to a smirk.  
  
“Kiss me,” Jun said.  
  
Sho tilted his head just as Jun closed his eyes, and he sighed when he felt Sho’s warm mouth on his own. It had been too long. He found himself responding, his free hand cupping Sho’s nape to have him closer. Sho had his hands fisted at the lapels of Jun’s coat, lips parting when Jun asked to be let in. He took Sho’s pleased noises for himself, muffling them and going for more, finding that he couldn’t possibly get enough.  
  
Their breaths were rushed when they broke apart, and Jun pressed his forehead against Sho’s.  
  
“Tomorrow,” he started, but Sho stopped him with a brief kiss.  
  
“I will fight with you,” Sho said. “I’ll be wherever you go.”  
  
Jun didn’t want anything else. They shared another kiss, one with Sho’s arms looping around his neck. He had to reach blindly to their side to approximate their distance from the nearest table, and he placed the book there before his hands went to Sho’s hips, holding him in place.  
  
They’d been seen like this before, but since the library was empty, Jun had no fears of being discovered. He kissed Sho with all he had, letting Sho know that he wanted him so and that hadn’t changed.  
  
It was Sho who pulled away first, lips moving to his ear. Jun was ticklish, and the brushes of Sho’s mouth against his earlobe made him squirm with a quiet laugh.  
  
“Will you take a duke or a duchess for your consort?” he heard himself ask.  
  
“What’s this?” Sho whispered against his ear. “Have you been listening to what my council pesters me with when they have nothing better to do?”  
  
“I overhear things,” Jun said with a smile. “Less intentional.”  
  
Sho nipped on the shell of his ear for that response. “Do you honestly see me marrying anyone?”  
  
“Not just anyone,” Jun said. Then, boldly: “I could be your consort.”  
  
Sho drew back to study his face, and Jun met his stare evenly. He meant every word.  
  
“You’re too good to be just my consort,” Sho said after a moment.  
  
“That’s not what I proposed,” Jun said.  
  
Sho ran his knuckles on the side of Jun’s face, stopping when they reached the curve of his jaw. “You’re a king. You could have anyone.”  
  
“I don’t want them,” Jun said confidently, selfishly. He’d never find anyone who could rival Sho. He’d never want anyone else.  
  
“Once you win, you will have to return to Saiph,” Sho said, smiling sadly. “And I’m the emperor here.”  
  
This time, Jun kissed Sho so he’d stop calling out truths. He kissed Sho to remember this night which might be their last. He kissed Sho to let him know how torn he was.  
  
“I wish we ran away,” Jun said in between kisses. “I wish we left when we could.”  
  
“When we saw the old mining station? That dawn we spent riding a speeder?”  
  
“Yes, or before that,” Jun whispered. “Before Denebia. We were on a ship. We could’ve left then.”  
  
“And start another war?” Sho smiled between them. “Repeat the century-old history our ancestors wrote?”  
  
Jun tugged at Sho’s bottom lip. “I wouldn’t be the first Saiphan who abducted a Hamali royalty.”  
  
“If I could, I’d have you,” Sho panted against his mouth. “But I never had anything that stayed with me for as long as I wanted it. Either they are taken away from me or they leave on their own volition. You’re one of them. You left me once, and soon, you’ll leave me again. So for tonight, pretend with me.”  
  
“Pretend?” Jun asked, unable to open his eyes. His chest felt too tight.  
  
“That tomorrow might not come,” Sho said. “That you’ll stay this time. Let me have this before you go.”  
  
Jun initiated a hard kiss, silencing Sho’s words, the harsh, difficult truths. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t want to lose, but winning meant staying in Saiph for good and never seeing Sho again. His kingdom was on the line, and yet, for a moment, he thought he’d risk it if it meant he’d get a second longer by Sho’s side.  
  
“I wish I took you away that night,” Jun said after his lips already felt swollen and sore. “On that speeder. We could’ve gone anywhere, away from all this, in some part of the galaxy where we don’t have to choose.”  
  
Sho put their foreheads together, one hand resting on the back of Jun’s nape. “In another life, maybe we did that. Or maybe we met when we were children and I pulled you along like what I did earlier. Maybe you courted me and showed me your garden.”  
  
Jun’s laugh was sad, nothing too different from what he felt inside. “We never have enough time. It’s always like this. We find each other when we don’t have long.”  
  
“Then let’s make the most of it,” Sho said, giving him a brief, sweet kiss. “We’ll do anything you want tonight.”  
  
Jun let him go, taking a step back. Sho’s mouth was red and tempting, and Jun had to look away to resist. “Pretend I’m your suitor,” he said.  
  
Sho quirked an eyebrow, the angle of his lips curving to a smile. “And?”  
  
“How would you have entertained me?”  
  
“I wouldn’t show you my collection,” Sho said. “But let’s say I favored you among all of them, the most I’d do is to share a meal with you.”  
  
“You’ve already done that,” Jun said. “You slept on my bed.”  
  
“Because you asked,” Sho said. “What else will you ask for tonight?”  
  
“Read your favorite to me,” Jun said, gesturing to the shelf behind Sho with a tilt of his chin. “The one book you kept going back to even as you got older.”  
  
Sho pulled a book from the shelf and made his way to nearest table. He sat on the edge of it, legs spread and dangling, and Jun pulled a chair and had Sho’s legs frame his sides. Sho began flipping pages, clearly in search of something, and Jun settled for watching his face as he waited.  
  
“For a moment there I thought you’d pick this one,” Jun said, lifting the book about star charts from earlier.  
  
“I was tempted,” Sho said. “I enjoyed that one. But I figured I’d be annoyed with your comments given that you’re a good pilot and you know your way around maps.”  
  
Jun rested his forearms on Sho’s thighs, cherishing their proximity. “I’d listen to you read anything, I think.”  
  
“I’ll read the inventory report to you next time,” Sho said, laughing when Jun made a face. “You said anything.”  
  
“Anything of interest, I mean,” Jun said.  
  
“Be more specific next time,” Sho said. He seemed to have found what he was looking for, stopping at a particular page. “This is about the Old World.”  
  
“You won’t bore me,” Jun promised. “You’ll know if you are.”  
  
“Yes, your face is very expressive,” Sho said. “Now be quiet.”  
  
Jun laughed but otherwise said nothing, and Sho began reading.  
  
\--  
  
They stayed in the royal library of Hamal till morning, until the attendants arrived to collect them both and prepare them for the boarding. They were to take the Hamali flagship together while Nino and Shun went ahead in an inconspicuous trader ship. They got a headstart, leaving Hamal hours prior to the armada, and by the time Jun was dressed and waiting in the spacedock, he’d already received a transmission from Shun that he and Nino had made the hyperspace jump.  
  
He saw Sho’s mother and Sho’s two siblings approaching, and he lowered his head in a respectable bow to greet them. If any of them knew of Sho’s actions for the past few days, they made no indication of it.  
  
Sho was escorted by Ohno and Keiko, arriving last but certainly drawing the attention. He wasn’t in armor, but he wore clothes similar to Jun’s—a white coat with a different cut, white trousers, white gloves. The entire spaceport looked at him in adoration.  
  
Sho stopped in front of Mai and he held her face in his hands, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be home for your birthday,” Sho said with a smile. “I can’t miss your thirtieth, can I?”  
  
“I won’t forgive you if you do,” Mai said. “May the stars shine upon you.”  
  
“And you,” Sho said. He faced his brother who looked just like him and said, “I can trust you to annoy the council in my absence, yes?”  
  
His brother only grinned in response, and Sho said, “Do better than me if you can.”  
  
Sho saved his mother for last, who only gave him a knowing look. Then: “In your absence, we hold the throne in good will. May the stars shine upon you—” and in what appeared to be an uncharacteristic show of affection, she stroked the side of Sho’s face, “—and guide your way home.”  
  
Sho put a fist over his heart and bowed, letting the moment pass. When he straightened his posture, he was looking at the flagship.  
  
“I will return,” he said, though he didn’t look at his family. “Hamal is my home.”  
  
Jun willed himself not to react at the implications of that statement, instead moving to stand beside Sho. They were equals now and it’d boost the men’s morale if they witnessed them board the ship together.  
  
As if on cue, they moved at the same time, their strides evenly paced. The Hamali flagship was thrice the size of Otonoha with state-of-the-art artillery and cloaking device. It would be flanked by fighter ships on all sides, piloted by Ohno and Aiba’s men, the rest of Jun’s men, and Sho’s personal guard. The flagship had Iseya for its pilot, and he was already on the bridge when Jun arrived there with Sho.  
  
“You’re supposed to be in another ship,” Sho said to Keiko, who was seated on the navigation console and serving as co-pilot.  
  
“Find me someone who can fly this ship then,” Keiko challenged. Jun could already see Iseya’s amused grin.  
  
“He can,” Sho said, inclining his head at Jun.  
  
At the look Keiko gave him, Jun raised his hands. “I’m not volunteering.”  
  
Keiko and Sho exchanged another look, and Sho said, “Fine.”  
  
Iseya began punching a few buttons, and on Sho’s word, he moved the ship out of the spacedock. The rest of the fleet followed suit via a synchronized communications channel, and when Sho gave a nod, they made the jump to hyperspace.  
  
From Hamal at their current speed, they’d reach Saiph in six days. The fleet had to stay together, and they sacrificed speed to avoid having a ship fall behind. Nino and Shun had their ship’s capabilities maxed out and were expected to send word on their progress three days from now. Till then, Jun knew he’d worry. A lot of things could happen in this week.  
  
With the ship on autopilot, Jun accepted Keiko’s offer of a tour. She seemed to be very familiar with the ship and all its levels.  
  
They reached three floors down from the bridge and Keiko said, “He doesn’t know it yet, but Okada-san is here. No other physician seemed most qualified to serve in the flagship.”  
  
“He ordered for Okada to remain in Hamal,” Jun said.  
  
“Well, not a lot of people listen to what he says nowadays,” Keiko said. “You would know. You’ve been doing that in his camp in the outskirts.”  
  
“I think he gives these orders not to prohibit people from joining his cause,” Jun said as they walked side-by-side. “Rather, it’s because he’s used to doing things on his own and he puts people where he thinks the majority will benefit, nevermind himself.”  
  
“He can’t win this war alone,” Keiko said. “He barely won the last one.”  
  
Jun nodded in agreement. “But he’s not alone.” He smiled. “I’m glad he has people who look after him even if he doesn’t want to be looked after.”  
  
“He has you,” Keiko said. “But you need looking after from time to time too.” She stopped, and Jun turned to face her, footsteps coming to a halt. “When you get your throne, what happens?”  
  
“Then everything is as it should be,” Jun said.  
  
“I know that,” Keiko said. “I meant him. You have to leave him. He knows it. You know it as well, and everyone in Hamal knows it. He’s made a good emperor for his first few months and he’s won his people’s allegiance.”  
  
Jun didn’t like the path this conversation was heading to, but he’d been expecting to hear it at some point. “You want me to leave him now so the hurt will be less when the time comes.” He let out a breath, averting his gaze to watch the corridor. “I tried. I couldn’t—can’t. I know it’s selfish. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I can’t possibly leave him now.”  
  
“It’s gone too long already,” Keiko said. “You will have to, eventually. You will be king. You can’t choose him over your kingdom. The entirety of Hamal knows this, that’s why they let it happen. If you don’t do it now, you’ll only end up hurting him more. He’s suffered enough.”  
  
Jun shut his eyes, feeling conflicted. “I know what he’s been through.”  
  
“Then you know I’m right,” Keiko said.  
  
“You’re asking me to hurt him now so I won’t have to in the future,” Jun said. “I can’t. I won’t be that kind of person to him. I won’t do that to his trust.”  
  
“Then you’re a selfish king, Matsumoto Jun,” Keiko said. She looked weary all of a sudden. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. I said these things because I could never say them to him. He’d never listen.”  
  
“He never listens,” Jun said.  
  
“He listens to you,” Keiko said.  
  
Jun shook his head. “I can’t tell him these things. Not after everything.”  
  
Keiko stood in his line of sight. Despite her smaller built, she looked more confident than Jun felt. “I’m not a Saiphan. But I know your men, have trained with them, have shared stories of war with them. They have my respect. Can you promise me that when the time comes, you’ll choose your people over him?”  
  
“I know that my time with him isn’t meant to last,” Jun said in acknowledgement. “I have a responsibility to my planet, one that I abandoned for too long out of indulgence and unpredictable circumstances.”  
  
“You’re not answering the question,” Keiko pointed out.  
  
“You said it earlier that I will have to, eventually,” Jun said. “But until then…”  
  
He trailed off, and he heard Keiko sigh.  
  
“You’re going to hurt him,” Keiko said.  
  
He was going to hurt them both, Jun thought. But Keiko had been right: it had gone for too long already. He was a moth to the flicker of a flame, drawn and captivated.  
  
“He knows,” Jun said. “He told me last night.”  
  
You’re going to leave me again, Sho had said.  
  
“Then there is nothing more I can tell you,” Keiko said. She resumed walking, and Jun fell into step beside her. “Despite his tendencies, he has a good heart. As a Hamali, I only wish to see him truly happy.”  
  
“You don’t think I can give that to him,” Jun said.  
  
“He needs someone who can help him rule by offering him good counsel, someone he trusts and listens to,” Keiko said. “You’re all of those, except he also needs someone who can stay, and that’s something you can’t do. You belong with your people.”  
  
“Do you think,” Jun asked seriously, “it would’ve been better if he and I never met? I often wonder. If we never met, you’d have no one to give this talk to.”  
  
“Perhaps everyone in Hamal thinks of it,” Keiko said after a moment. “But considering the odds then...he wouldn’t be emperor if you hadn’t arrived that day.”  
  
Jun didn’t think he’d done something noteworthy. If he hadn’t killed Inamine, anyone else would’ve done it. Keiko could’ve done it herself. “He’d still be where he is right now even without my help. He would’ve found another way to make it happen without me.”  
  
“He’d have been assassinated if you hadn’t arrived,” Keiko reminded him. “I don’t gloss over what you’ve done for him. I know I’m not in a position to ask a king to do something. But if you care for him, you know what I say is true.”  
  
“I know it’s true,” Jun acknowledged. “I know I’ll only hurt him in the end. But it’s too late now, I think. If I could stay away, I’d have done it a long time ago. I think a part of me will always search for him no matter where I go. And that part will always want to return.”  
  
Two halves of a whole according to the legend. But Sho was no myth or origin story—he was real. And if he needed Jun, Jun returned the sentiment twofold.  
  
He turned and saw Keiko looking at him but there was no trace of judgment in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Jun said. “You know what will be my answer when you ask me to leave him.”  
  
“Yes,” Keiko said, nodding. “That’s why I won’t ask anymore.”  
  
They reached the turbo lifts, and Keiko punched a button that would take them to the mess hall.  
  
“The way you love him is selfish,” Keiko said after a moment of brief silence. “You won’t let him go unless you already have to.”  
  
“How awful, isn’t it?” Jun said, smiling sadly. “I keep thinking that one day I might have enough, but I always find myself wanting more.”  
  
“He is the same towards you, I think,” Keiko said. “He keeps you close even if he knows more than anyone else that you’ll leave eventually.”  
  
“Why don’t you tell him these things, then? He will listen to you; you bear him no ill will,” Jun said.  
  
Keiko faced him fully, eyes on his. “I can’t. Because I see how he is when he’s with you, how happy he is, and I think you might be the only thing he’s had for himself his whole life. I’ll stop anyone from taking something like that from him if I could.”  
  
“You are stopping me,” Jun said with a dash of amusement.  
  
“And utterly failing at it,” Keiko said. “I prefer when I have to fight you one on one. That way, I know I’ve won.”  
  
Jun let out a small laugh, remembering. It felt like a long time ago, back when things had been easier.  
  
“When the time comes,” Keiko said, and they both knew what she meant, “make it quick. Don’t linger and don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’re bound to hurt him no matter what you do, so don’t make him suffer through it longer than necessary. It’s all I ask.”  
  
Jun’s breaths were measured and his chest felt heavy. He was a king, and this was just one of the many sacrifices he’d have to make in his reign.  
  
Sho for his kingdom, his planet.  
  
His home.  
  
“When the time comes,” he muttered, and Keiko said no more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit spoilery, but necessary: felching happens somewhere in this. I didn't tag it up there^ because it's not as graphically described as I would've preferred, but here's your warning just in case.

Three days in hyperspace had them going on a routine. The flagship had attendants and soldiers on all decks, some of which were members of Sho’s personal guard. When it was morning according to the day cycle, the mess hall, the gym, and the training area would be populated. Sho would either be in his study or on the bridge surveying star charts and blueprints. Jun would almost always be beside him, listening to his plans and offering input before they would communicate it with the rest of the fleet.  
  
When the night cycle began, they’d retire and head to separate rooms, connected by a shared bathroom. Even without checking, Jun knew that Sho hardly slept; even he couldn’t find rest—his mind was a minefield of possibilities.  
  
On the fourth day, instead of an encrypted transmission from Nino, they received one labeled urgent from the Saiphan royal palace. Jun had to rush to the bridge as Iseya patched the transmission through all channels and frequencies, letting the entire ship and the rest of their fleet know of its contents as per Sho’s instructions.  
  
Jun had been expecting Rina, and his blood had run cold when it wasn’t her that appeared upon fullscreen. It was Rina’s mother. Despite her age, she was still attractive, a cunning kind of beauty. And yet her eyes looked calculating and vindictive, more so when she locked eyes with Jun.  
  
“So you live,” she said. It took Jun a beat to remember that this was a live transmission.  
  
“My sister won’t kill me,” Jun said. He caught movement and saw Sho stand beside him, and he held his head high. “She’s nothing like you.”  
  
“She’s such a disappointment,” Rina’s mother said. “She could’ve done so much had she listened to me. She should’ve killed you like I told her to, not send you to Hamal. But then again, who could’ve known that the Saiphan prince would tumble with filth?” Her eyes landed on Sho, and Jun fumed.  
  
“Insult me if you must,” Jun said. It made her look back at him. “You’re losing. You know it. Where’s my sister?”  
  
“Where she’s supposed to be. What do you think I’ve done to her? She’s of my own flesh and blood.”  
  
“Where is she?” Jun asked again, fearing the worst.  
  
Rina’s mother smiled, and Jun fisted his hands to his sides. “Awaiting your decision.”  
  
Jun frowned. “My decision about what?”  
  
“Rina needs to answer to the people for leading them to war, to unnecessary bloodshed,” she said, and Jun could feel his nails digging into his palms. “You know your planet’s own laws. Your own father implemented them, taught them to you after you became his heir. You know what awaits your sister if she’s found guilty by the court.”  
  
Execution or lifetime incarceration in the high prison, unless the monarch offered full pardon. With Rina on trial, there was no monarch. The crown would have to be held by the one closest to it, which would make her mother the Queen Regent of the planet.  
  
“She’s your daughter,” Jun said, unable to believe how cruel she could be. “You’d send your daughter to her death without second thought.”  
  
“That’s not up to me,” she said, smiling once more. “You see, this is why I’m speaking with you. Right now, Rina is awaiting the verdict. I offer you the chance to save her from that.”  
  
In his periphery, he caught Sho shaking his head once.  
  
“He’s clever, isn’t he?” Rina’s mother turned to Sho. “You’ve been such a nuisance to me, Emperor.”  
  
“Likewise,” Sho said. “We’ll hear no more lies. Our armies are coming to your gates. If you wish to parley, do so by then.”  
  
“You don’t have any power here, so far away from your planet,” she said, facing Jun once more. “But I suppose this offer is better heard with the Emperor by your side. Here’s my offer: you in exchange for Rina.”  
  
Jun froze. He couldn’t think, couldn’t hear a thing. He could only look at the face on the screen, at the way her eyes narrowed upon seeing his reaction. She’d thought this through.  
  
“She will live if you surrender yourself to the Saiphan army and stand in trial for treason and murder of the late king,” she said. “These are the crimes Rina’s been accused with. She pleaded guilty to all of them. But we both know she didn’t do it, no?”  
  
“No,” Jun said, voice hollow. “She would never harm father.”  
  
“Exactly. You’ll be in Saiph in two, three days from now at most. If you accept, Rina will be safe. Your Hamali friends can have her, provided you take her place. Board a ship and present yourself at the gates. As soon as you reach the city, Rina can take the ship you’ve used and fly to her freedom.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “That’s what she’d do, if she were you, if it meant saving you.”  
  
“Jun,” he heard beside him, but he couldn’t look. He stood on his spot, body rigid with tension.  
  
“Enough of this,” Sho said. “There’ll be no deals outside the terms of parley.”  
  
Rina’s mother paid no attention to him. She kept staring at Jun. “Rina has two days until the verdict. You have until then to decide whether you’ll fight or admit your crimes.” The angle of her lips curved to a confident smirk. “I think we’ll see each other soon enough. Until then.”  
  
The transmission ended, and Jun’s knees felt wobbly, his balance off-center. He had to lean against the pilot’s chair for support, and his breaths came out shallow.  
  
When he found the strength to move, it was as if his body was no longer his own. His voice was detached when he excused himself, his ears buzzing as he made his way back to his quarters. He couldn’t remember making the trip back. He sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t prevent the tears from falling.  
  
He was lost. He didn’t know what to do, what he was fighting for anymore. Rina had pleaded guilty despite not committing any of what she’d been accused with, and she’d done it to protect Jun. Perhaps she’d intended to die without Jun knowing as a form of atonement for her role in this scheme.  
  
He’d been blind. He could’ve seen this coming, instead he’d opted to wait it out and listened to Rina’s precaution. Of course she’d want him to stay away. Rina had never wanted him to know.  
  
He didn’t hear any doors opening, but soon, there was a dip on the mattress and he felt fingers in his hair, pulling him close without a word. He buried his face in Sho’s neck, hiding his tears there, taking the comfort Sho was giving.  
  
“I can’t let her die for me,” Jun said. “I can’t lose her like this.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said.  
  
“You know what I’m going to do.”  
  
“Yes, and I’m here to stop you. There is another way.”  
  
Jun pulled back to look at Sho’s face. “She asked for me. If I surrender, my sister will be safe. There’s no other way.”  
  
“There is,” Sho said, holding his face in both hands, thumbs wiping at his cheeks. “Listen to me. We’ve received word that Ninomiya and your captain managed to enter the planet undetected.”  
  
Jun couldn’t utter a word.  
  
“If they disable the gates, we can proceed with the plan, and since your captain knows the palace, they can find your sister. They can extract her while we serve as the distraction, and by the time they notice her disappearance, they already suffered a monumental loss. Don’t be rash. We stick to the plan; it will work.”  
  
“Rina’s mother said we have two days,” Jun said after processing what Sho had just told him.  
  
“And in two days, those gates will be opened. They’ll hardly notice a rescue in the ensuing commotion,” Sho said. “Don’t even think of accepting that offer. There’s nothing for you in it.”  
  
“I didn’t know,” Jun said. “I didn’t know Nino and Shun got in.”  
  
“Because you left the bridge,” Sho said with a small smile. He let Jun go. “I came here to tell you at once. We will win this. We’ll win, we’ll save your sister, and you’ll be king.”  
  
“You make it sound easy,” Jun said, but inevitably, he found himself believing Sho.  
  
“We’re so close to the end,” Sho said.  
  
Jun shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t talk about that. We don’t know what might happen yet.”  
  
Sho peered at him, and after a moment, said, “Keiko gave you the talk.”  
  
Jun couldn’t lie. “On the first day.”  
  
“Of course she did,” Sho said. “Did you plan on listening to her?”  
  
“No,” Jun said honestly. He reached for Sho’s hand, grateful that he wasn’t alone. They’d win. They’d beat Rina’s mother to her own game. “I can’t.”  
  
“She will disapprove,” Sho said, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. “The whole ship knows where we are.”  
  
“Are we required for anything?” Jun asked. It was the night cycle and the ship’s morning crew had retired already.  
  
“No, I told them we will proceed as planned when you left,” Sho said. “We have tonight and no one will come disturb us.”  
  
“Stay with me,” Jun said, and suddenly, all he could remember was that night in Lucida Ventris. “Just for tonight. Don’t go back to your room tonight.”  
  
He was expecting a haughty smile or a clever retort, perhaps a teasing barb, but instead Sho only tilted his head and kissed him briefly on the mouth. Jun couldn’t help pulling him close for another, one that he intended to be longer than the previous. His desperation took hold and he cupped the back of Sho’s head, tongue sweeping in to stake claim on Sho’s mouth.  
  
Sho was responding, meeting his enthusiasm in equal measure, one hand flat on his chest. The kiss grew heated, and Sho pushed him back a little to climb onto his lap. Jun’s hand came up to rest on the small of Sho’s back, acting as support as he responded to every kiss, every sigh made against his lips.  
  
Jun was aware he was seeking solace in Sho, answering the crave for comfort that he felt. He knew he should follow Keiko’s advice and stay away, but there was nowhere he’d rather be, not when Sho had initiated.  
  
He moved to kiss Sho’s jaw, lips traveling downward and stopping on Sho’s pulse. He heard a quiet sigh and felt Sho pull him closer, fingers tangled in his hair, and Jun marked him there, right where everyone could see.  
  
“Take off your clothes,” Sho breathed, hands fisting at the collar of his tunic. “Now.”  
  
Jun drew back and obliged, fingers fumbling with buttons and laces. Since he’d assumed his real identity, his clothes had become more elaborate. Sho’s impatience was palpable with the way he started helping Jun, undoing knots a little forcefully. The tunic was off Jun in moments, and he hissed when Sho ran his nails over his chest, leaving scarlet lines.  
  
Sho pushed him back and he had to rest his weights on his palms as he regained his balance. There were Sho’s hands on his shoulders, and when Jun met his eyes, Sho said, “Don’t touch me.”  
  
Jun blinked. His hands fisted at the sheets behind him in response.  
  
“Don’t touch me unless I say so,” Sho said, and without waiting for Jun’s answer, ducked to plant kisses on Jun’s neck. Jun tried to stay still, letting out noises of satisfaction as Sho’s mouth explored. It was hard not to react—he was ticklish on the spots Sho chose to linger, and involuntarily, his body began to chase after the warmth left by Sho’s mouth.  
  
Another push from Sho had Jun resting his weight on his elbows. He watched Sho maneuver himself, lowering his trunk so he could trail kisses down Jun’s torso. He ran a tongue over Jun’s nipple and Jun gasped; he was quite sensitive there.  
  
The swipes of tongue were soon followed by a dash of teeth in teasing nips, eliciting pleasurable spikes of pain. Jun arched and Sho soothed his sore nipple with a flick of his tongue. He did the same with the other before proceeding further downward, fingers gliding at the waistband of Jun’s trousers.  
  
“No,” Jun said, and he felt Sho stop, hot breath ghosting over his navel. Sho was one leg off the bed, and it was clear what he’d been planning to do. Jun had to swallow to get some words out. “You don’t kneel for me.”  
  
“And if I want to?” Sho asked, hands resting on Jun’s thighs.  
  
“No,” Jun said again. “I—want to see you. I want to remember this. Last time there were no lights and I could barely see your face. Tonight, I want to see everything, have everything, remember everything. Don’t deprive me of that.”  
  
Sho pushed himself up to kiss him, brief but hard, his intentions clear. “Move,” he told Jun, gesturing to the center of the bed.  
  
Jun reached down to loosen the laces of his boots, kicking them off with haste as he did what Sho had asked. He sat up just as Sho straddled him, the both of them half-clothed—Jun in his trousers and Sho in his tunic. Sho brushed against him, hard against fabric, and Jun gasped.  
  
“Don’t touch me,” Sho said again, and Jun fisted at the sheets on their sides. He had to incline his neck as Sho kissed him, Sho’s hands cradling his face. Jun allowed it to last till he had to breathe, and he couldn’t stay away for too long; repeatedly giving Sho short kisses.  
  
With the lights not fully dimmed, Jun could see how Sho’s hair cast shadows on his face. He was tempted to brush them away but kept his hands where they were, waiting for what Sho wanted. They had tonight. Sho was here and he was staying for tonight.  
  
He felt Sho’s hands fumble with the catch of his trousers, and he let out a moan when Sho’s hand slipped past the waistband and took hold. He sought more, meeting Sho’s grip, and he felt Sho smile against his mouth.  
  
“You liked this the last time,” Sho said.  
  
“I like whatever you want to give me,” Jun said.  
  
Sho’s hand started to move despite what little room he had, his strokes causing Jun to leave pleased sighs against Sho’s cheek. Sho’s other hand loosened the knots of Jun’s trousers, opening them just enough. Sho sat back a bit, bracing one hand behind him as he took hold of Jun and himself, the friction sending them both groaning.  
  
Jun easily found Sho’s mouth and took all the noises Sho kept making as his hand stroked faster, heat quickly building up between them. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing hard in each other’s spaces, and whispered, “What do you want?” despite the undeniable pleasure Sho was giving him.  
  
“More,” Sho whispered back, half-delirious. Then his eyes snapped open and his hand stopped, gripping tight. “I—”  
  
“Anything,” Jun assured him. “Anything you want.”  
  
Jun gasped in surprise when he felt Sho push him, his back hitting the sheets with a soft thud. He lay flat on the bed, eyes wide in wonder when Sho’s grip loosened around them both.  
  
“I want you to watch me,” Sho said.  
  
Without waiting for his response, Sho moved off him and the bed, disappearing to the shared bathroom to gather what he needed. He returned after a minute, straddling Jun once more, and Jun’s breath hitched when he heard Sho flipping the cap of the tube open.  
  
He had to grab some pillows to rest his head on and see better as Sho reached behind him. From his vantage point Jun couldn’t really see, but he could tell when Sho started preparing himself with the way Sho’s cheeks turned a shade darker.  
  
Sho kept his eyes down, his breathing labored.  
  
“Look at me,” Jun coaxed softly, and Sho’s gaze snapped to his, eyes dark with lust. “Watch me as I watch you.”  
  
Sho’s swollen and full lips parted in a breathless moan, a tinge of pink steadily climbing from his neck to his cheeks. He looked beautiful as he gave in to pleasure, and Jun moistened his lips at the sight of him. Jun was hard, almost painfully so, but he didn’t dare touch himself. He kept his hands where they were and watched as Sho started riding his own fingers.  
  
With each shaky breath, it was becoming more difficult for Jun to restrain himself. He felt like he’d burn if he didn’t get to touch Sho, but he wasn’t allowed. He was about to make a request when Sho’s eyes fluttered open, and Jun barely noticed Sho pulling his fingers free to grab Jun’s face with both hands.  
  
Their kiss was more teeth, with Sho biting and tugging at his lips but Jun focused on it, trying to meet Sho halfway. He groaned when he felt Sho reaching for his cock, slicking it before guiding it, and it took all of his concentration to pull back.  
  
“We don’t—” Jun tried, and he had to wet his lips once more, “we don’t have anything.”  
  
Sho blinked once, twice. “I could—”  
  
“No,” Jun said quickly, afraid that Sho would leave. He wouldn’t be able to bear a second without Sho close by. “I trust you. I just want to know if you’re sure.”  
  
“I’m sure,” Sho said, nipping at his chin. “Are you?”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he felt the tip brush against Sho’s hole. He must’ve let out some garbled version of Sho’s name when he felt heat envelop his cock, Sho sinking into him slowly, until all of Jun was inside and they both had to pause to breathe.  
  
Sho’s arms looped around his neck, and Jun pressed his nose against Sho’s jaw to commit his scent to memory. He balled the sheets on his sides to his fists, his grip on control rapidly deteriorating.  
  
Sho started to move using his knees—slow, rocking movements that made Jun see white. It felt so good despite the time Sho took to adjust fully, and when he sped up, Jun could no longer hold himself back.  
  
“Please,” Jun begged, trembling. “Let me touch you.”  
  
Sho’s lips were resting on the shell of his ear, and Sho breathed, “Hold me.”  
  
In an instant, Jun’s hands were on Sho’s back, climbing up to cup his nape and pull his face close. With the control Sho had relinquished to him, Jun took what he could. He kissed Sho as they started moving together, bodies meeting in the middle. He became attuned to the sounds Sho was making as he pushed halfway, and he felt Sho’s arms tightening around him.  
  
He slipped his hand between them, fingers grasping Sho’s face so he could kiss him better, and he let out something close to a growl when he heard Sho utter his name.  
  
“Jun,” Sho husked, their movements synchronized and increasing in pace. “Jun, Jun.”  
  
Jun let his teeth catch onto the column of Sho’s throat as Sho rode him, muffling his grunts there while Sho threw his head back as Jun lifted his hips to chase after the warmth. Sho’s tunic slipped off one shoulder due to their movements, and Jun planted kisses on the curve of Sho’s exposed collarbone.  
  
He reached for Sho’s cock between them, stroking it in the same rhythm as the one they created together, and Sho’s teeth caught on his earlobe and tugged. All he could hear were Sho’s moans, and he could feel nothing aside from the way their bodies were joined.  
  
“You’re mine tonight,” Jun said selfishly, helplessly. He felt Sho twitch against his palm and he squeezed, his other hand clutching tight at Sho’s waist.  
  
“Yes,” Sho hissed. He lost his tempo, knees doing most of the work as he sank into Jun’s cock again and again, nails embedded onto the meat of Jun’s shoulders.  
  
In a surge of strength Jun had no idea what was the source of, he managed to flip their positions—Sho’s legs framing his body as Sho’s back hit the mattress with a startled gasp, but Sho’s surprise didn’t last long. He pulled Jun to a messy, wet kiss, ankles locking around the small of Jun’s back as Jun pushed in him and inched back to do so again.  
  
Sho’s hand covered his around Sho’s cock, and he didn’t take his eyes off Sho’s face as they stroked together, wanting to see everything. When Sho tried to cover his face, Jun caught his wrist and said, “Don’t hide from me. You told me to watch you.”  
  
A breathy laugh escaped from Sho, and Jun let him go. “I’m not hiding. You’re seeing all of me.”  
  
“And I want it all,” Jun said, claiming Sho’s mouth once more. His hand moved quicker and he felt Sho’s cock twitch. “I want you. I want you desperately.”  
  
He kissed Sho throughout his climax, Sho’s tunic bearing most of his release. It wouldn’t take long for Jun, and he had to still his hips as he waited for Sho’s high to dissipate.  
  
“Why did you stop?” Sho panted, eyes fluttering open. Jun trembled between Sho’s limbs, his arms shaking with effort to hold himself up.  
  
“I—I can’t,” Jun said, hoping it was enough. “If I move, I—”  
  
“I want you to,” Sho said, and Jun felt fire course through his veins, igniting his senses. “I want you to do it in me.”  
  
Sho grabbed his face close and bucked back, smiling when Jun couldn’t hold back his groan. “Let me feel it,” Sho said, tongue darting out to lick a bead of sweat that clung to Jun’s jaw. “Let me have this.”  
  
Jun didn’t need any further prompting, hips moving in a frenzy and erratic in his desperation. A tingle ran down his spine and he made one final thrust as he let go, emptying himself in Sho, Sho’s name leaving his lips in a shaky, breathless cry. His mind went blank as he rode his orgasm out, and he eventually lay draped over Sho, whose only complaint about his weight was a pained grunt.  
  
Sho’s tunic had to be sticking to him uncomfortably, in the same manner Jun’s trousers clung to his hips. The stickiness was what made Jun roll off Sho and collapse beside him, the two of them still catching their breaths.  
  
Before Sho could say something, Jun willed himself to gather some strength, pushing himself up so he could kneel between Sho’s legs and spread them further apart. He felt Sho resist and said, “Let me see,” and he pressed a kiss to Sho’s knee to placate him. “I want to see.”  
  
Sho covered his face with the back of his hand and turned to the side, and Jun watched as some of his come slide back out slowly out of Sho, his hole twitching.  
  
“This is embarrassing,” Sho said, and Jun kissed the inside of his thigh.  
  
“No, it’s not,” Jun said, lips moving lower.  
  
Sho jolted. “Are you—”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. “I want to.” His mouth was close to where he wanted it, and he took note of the look on Sho’s face. “No one’s done this to you before.”  
  
“Are you going to brandish that information now that you have it?” Sho asked.  
  
Jun had to shuffle forward to kiss Sho’s mouth to silence him. “That’s not what I meant. I’m glad no one’s done this to you because that means I’m the first and the only one.”  
  
He resumed his previous position and lifted Sho’s legs to rest them on his shoulders, and with Sho’s breath stilling, he went for a lick. He heard his name and did it again, tasting himself on Sho and going for more, until there was no more trace of him and he’d turned Sho to a writhing mess on the sheets.  
  
He lowered Sho’s legs to the mattress and crawled back up, responding to Sho’s kiss eagerly.  
  
“You’re unbelievable,” Sho said between them, tongue flicking over Jun’s lips.  
  
Jun kissed him, long and indulgent. “I still want you,” he admitted. “Despite everything we just did.”  
  
“Then have me,” Sho said against his chin. “Have me however you want me.”  
  
Sho’s hands slipped inside his trousers to cup his ass, and Jun broke the kiss so he could finally rid himself of them. He removed them hastily, huffing in annoyance when one pant leg got caught around his ankle. He heard Sho laugh, and when the material was finally off him and on the floor, he rejoined Sho on the bed, lying on his side so he could kiss Sho without worrying about his balance.  
  
“It’ll be a while,” Jun said. “I’m not a pleasure bot.”  
  
Sho’s laugh was rich and amused, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He looked carefree, and Jun was utterly charmed. “I didn’t think you were. We can stay like this for now.”  
  
He looped an arm around Sho’s waist to have him closer, their hands loosely entangled between them. Sho watched him without uttering a word, and Jun didn’t dare shatter the moment. He didn’t know when he could have something like this again.  
  
“Won’t you take off the tunic?” Jun asked eventually.  
  
Sho’s slow smile made his stomach feel funny. He hoped it always would. “Why?”  
  
“It’s…” Jun struggled to find words and ultimately settled with “It’s in the way.”  
  
Sho laughed.  
  
“And it’s filthy,” Jun added.  
  
Sho sat up without a word and took off the tunic, discarding it to the side. Before he could lie down again, Jun pressed himself against Sho’s back and began running kisses down Sho’s nape, arms locking around Sho’s waist.  
  
“I don’t want tomorrow to come,” he heard Sho say, an uncharacteristic but raw admission that made him cease what he was doing. “I’d be happy if we could just stay like this.”  
  
“We could,” Jun promised, dropping a kiss to the steep angle of Sho’s shoulder, at the bony process on the tip of it. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
Sho said nothing, but he gripped Jun’s hand tight over his abdomen and faced the side so Jun could kiss him. Sho’s other hand went up to grab his nape as their kiss grew more urgent, like Sho was making the most of it.  
  
His desperation was something Jun could relate to, something he could feel in his bones the longer they remained like this. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold Sho like this again. He’d never get to touch him, let alone be intimate with him, and there was nothing they could do. It was the ever present reality for them both, that what they shared wouldn’t last.  
  
“It’s not tomorrow yet,” Jun said after a while. “We still have time.”  
  
“Yes,” Sho agreed, body moving to face him. Soon he had Sho’s fingers tracing the line of his abs and he shivered in anticipation. “I remember how much you liked my mouth back then.”  
  
“I more than liked it,” Jun admitted, earning him Sho’s smile.  
  
“We should bathe,” Sho said, but his hand was already moving inward and making Jun react.  
  
“Don’t leave me hanging,” Jun complained.  
  
Sho grinned before kissing him, and he settled between Jun’s legs, elbowing Jun’s limbs to make enough room for himself. He lowered his face to where Jun wanted him, eyes flicking to Jun’s.  
  
“Try to last longer than the last time,” Sho said in challenge.  
  
Whatever retort Jun had had vanished; Sho didn’t give him a chance to utter a word and already got to work, leaving him breathless in moments.  
  
\--  
  
They made love for hours and hours, till they both couldn’t do much except indulge in kisses done in a lazy manner. Jun was sore, his lips even more so, but they slept with their limbs tangled and bodies pressed together, sharing warmth after they’d shared everything else.  
  
Come morning, Jun woke alone.  
  
Sho’s side of the bed was cold to the touch, and the fact that Sho had started his day was what made Jun sit up despite his body protesting. He had to stretch his aching limbs to get them moving, and by the time he’d finished preparing himself for the day, there was a series of knocks on his door.  
  
He said, “Enter,” and the doors swooshed open to reveal a frantic, out of breath Keiko.  
  
“Where is he?” Keiko asked, eyes searching Jun’s room.  
  
Jun blinked in confusion. “What?”  
  
Keiko didn’t bother excusing herself, entering Jun’s quarters and peeking through the rooms. Jun hadn’t made his bed, and he was certain it was obvious what had happened the night before, but Keiko only made a passing glance before pivoting on her heel to face him.  
  
“He’s gone,” Keiko said, and she fisted both hands on Jun’s coat, pushing him back with surprising strength that his body made contact with the wall.  
  
He barely registered the pain. All he could think of was what Keiko had told him.  
  
“No,” Jun said. “No, what do you mean he’s gone? He was right here a few hours ago.”  
  
“He’s not in the ship,” Keiko said, and her face contorted, eyes glistening. “We tried to locate him in the database and the computer said he’s not in the ship. We’ve been looking for him in the past hour and this is my last stop. What did he tell you?”  
  
Jun couldn’t think. Sho was gone. That was the only thing he could process at present.  
  
Keiko slammed him against the wall once more. “What did he tell you?!”  
  
Jun had to blink to refocus. “That Nino and Shun made it in the planet. That we’ll proceed with the plan.”  
  
Keiko let out a bark of laughter, one that made her tears fall after. “There’s no transmission from Ninomiya. Or from Oguri, in that matter. We’re still waiting for their word.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, and his knees felt wobbly. Keiko let him go and he sank to the floor. “No, he couldn’t.” Jun shook his head. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”  
  
“He would if it meant keeping you safe,” Keiko said. They heard footsteps, and Sho’s personal guard barged into Jun’s room unannounced.  
  
“Is he—?” Kiko began, but Keiko already shook her head. Jun could see the shift in Kiko’s expression, at the look she gave Jun. “No.”  
  
“Tell Iseya-san to open a fleetwide channel, all frequencies,” Keiko said. “We have to find him. He couldn’t have gotten far.”  
  
Kiko nodded, but she halted in her steps when she appeared to remember something. “Keiko-chan,” Kiko said, “we checked the rosters. There’s one ship that’s missing from the cargo bay.”  
  
“No,” Jun said in disbelief. “No, he couldn’t have—”  
  
“Can we track that ship?” Keiko asked, her voice cracking.  
  
“We are tracking it,” Kiko said. “I’ll go up to the bridge. Iseya-san’s doing all the scans, all channels and frequencies. Everyone’s on high alert.”  
  
Kiko and the others left, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence between Jun and Keiko.  
  
“What did he tell you last night?” Keiko asked quietly.  
  
Jun shut his eyes, and he felt like his heart was breaking. Perhaps it was. “I already told you.”  
  
“There must be something else,” Keiko insisted. “I know him. He says goodbye when he has to.”  
  
Jun felt hollow, like his body had emptied itself out and left nothing for him. He felt raw, like a nerve exposed and ready to atrophy. He remembered Sho’s kisses, the want in them, the underlying desperation. All of it had meant something.  
  
“He didn’t want today to come,” Jun muttered, and in his periphery, he saw Keiko turn away, one hand concealing half of her face including her tears.  
  
“Get up,” Keiko said, kicking his boot. “Get up. He’s not far. We can catch up to him. Get up, Matsumoto. I don’t care if you’re a king; you’re the reason he’s gone. So you will bring him back.”  
  
“You know where he’s going,” Jun said, looking up at Keiko.  
  
Keiko’s expression was serious despite her eyes still teary. “Yes. You know it too. Get up and order him to come back. He listens to you.”  
  
It was what gave Jun the strength to stand up and run to the bridge, Keiko right on his heels. Jun punched the button of the turbo lift in combined frustration and anger, and when they reached the bridge, only Iseya looked up from his station.  
  
“He’s on his way to Saiph,” Iseya said. “He’s not answering all our hails.”  
  
Jun stepped towards the communications console, flipping switches and patching up a channel to connect with Sho’s ship. He was answered with one rejection after another, and he decided to send a transmission.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked, not caring if everyone in the bridge could hear him. “Why are you doing this?”  
  
There was no response, but he knew Sho was receiving it. Sho could hear him; he just wasn’t replying.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Jun said. “Come back and we’ll think of another way. You told me there’s nothing for me in that offer. There’s nothing for you, too. Come back.” He uttered the next bit softly, begging Sho with all he had. “Come back to me.”  
  
He punched the console in the height of anger when Sho closed the channel. He turned to Iseya and said, “Tell me we’re following him.”  
  
“We are,” Iseya said. “But he’s faster; he’s using a ship of the same model as the one Ninomiya used when he left the outskirts to go back to Alnitak.” He looked like he didn’t want to say the rest.  
  
“What?” Jun demanded.  
  
“We’ll never catch up,” Iseya said regretfully. “At least not on time.”  
  
Jun opened up the channel again, and when he saw it connect, called out Sho’s name. “Listen to me,” he said. “There’s nothing for you there. Come back and we’ll wait for Nino, for Shun. There’s still time. We can—”  
  
“Do you remember what was your answer when I asked what would you give if it meant keeping your sister safe?” Sho suddenly asked, his voice a little choppy because of the connection.  
  
Jun did, and he shook his head despite Sho not seeing it. “No. No, I didn’t mean it that way.” His grip tightened around the console. “I didn’t mean you.”  
  
“Was I ever yours to be given away?” Sho asked in a voice Jun almost didn’t recognize. It made Jun stop, words turning to ash in his mouth. “Did you honestly believe that any of what we shared was true?”  
  
His chest felt too tight; it was difficult to breathe. “No,” Jun said. “No, what are you saying? Stop lying. Why are you lying to me?”  
  
“You’ve always been blind,” Sho said. “Always trusted too much. It’s what got you into my service in the first place, and look where it took you now. Did you actually think I would spend time with you willingly? That I enjoyed what we had together and never found you repulsive? You killed my people.”  
  
Jun had to lean against the console to maintain his balance. “You don’t mean that,” he said weakly. Sho was lying. He couldn’t be serious. After Denebia, things had changed between them. Everything that had followed after that couldn’t be a lie. It felt true.  
  
“Oh but I do,” Sho said. “I entertained you because there was no one else; I was fighting a war. I entertained you in Hamal because you’re a king. But that’s all there is to it.”  
  
“Stop lying,” Jun said. He felt like there were a thousand blades in his heart. “You told me you’d choose me if you could.”  
  
“And you believed it like the fool you’ve always been,” Sho said. “I told you once that you’re a sad, pathetic man. Nothing much has changed; you’re still a sad, pathetic man, except now you’re hung up on the first person who showed you a semblance of affection after spending months without it. A pampered prince who was so accustomed to having reciprocation that he jumped at the first sign of it despite the source being someone who had no reason to love him.” Sho laughed, mocking and spiteful. “None of it was real.”  
  
Sho had to be doing this on purpose. He had to be deliberately hurting Jun for a reason. And yet, it hurt. It hurt so much that Jun thought he’d choke on it. He was being shattered to pieces at each cruel word he heard Sho say.  
  
He had to take a shuddering breath to get the words out. “Regardless,” he said, hoping he sounded stable despite his state being far from it, “please come back. You don’t have to do this.”  
  
“Do you think I’m doing it for you?” Sho asked, and Jun couldn’t hide the sting he felt. “Don’t be absurd.”  
  
“Then you should come back,” Jun said. “If you’re not doing it for me, turn back that ship and return. There’s no reason for you to do this. Hamal will lose its emperor.”  
  
“And they will gain another empress,” Sho said. When Jun didn’t speak, he hummed. “Didn’t you know? My sister will be thirty in less than a month. If I do this, her reign is secured.”  
  
“That’s a gamble,” Jun said. “She will betray you. You know it.”  
  
“Are you trying to tell me what to do?” Sho asked.  
  
“You listened to me once,” Jun said.  
  
“How deluded,” Sho said. “You think you can persuade me now? Give up. Stop making a fool of yourself. Whatever influence you had on me never existed in the first place. I did what I had done out of necessity.”  
  
“It was all real to me,” Jun heard himself mutter quietly.  
  
For a moment, Sho’s side was full of silence with the occasional bouts of static.  
  
Then: “Like I said: a sad, pathetic man.”  
  
A few beats had passed before Jun regained his voice. “Come back,” he pleaded still. “If none of what you promised me was real, remember your words when you left your planet. You promised your sister you’ll be home for her birthday.”  
  
“Do you think they don’t know?” Sho asked. “They’re my family. They know what I’m doing. I told them. Just because I never told you doesn’t mean I never told anyone. Besides, why should you have to know? You’re not important.”  
  
It would be more than a moment before Jun could speak. Breathing felt like a task; his chest felt too heavy. Sho’s words had gutted him in the same way they had before, right after he’d saved Sho’s life.  
  
He’d been a fool, still as naïve as he’d been when he’d been betrayed. He’d believed all of Sho’s words, all his promises, even offered himself up and everything he had. It was all some cruel trick.  
  
“But they are,” Jun heard himself say. “Your family is important to you. You have to go back to them. You promised them that you will.”  
  
“Did you not hear a word I said?” Sho asked. “Are you really that thick?”  
  
“You may have lied to me,” Jun acknowledged, “but you’ll never lie to them.”  
  
“A few fucks and you think you know everything about me,” Sho said. “We’re getting nowhere. I know you’re following me because that’s all you’re good at, but don’t waste your fuel. I can win this war without your help. In my own way. I don’t need you. I never did. I simply pretended to.”  
  
Jun closed his eyes, and he wished to whoever was listening that this was all a dream and he’d wake up soon enough, to the sight of Sho sleeping by his side in peace. Despite everything Sho had said to him, Jun couldn’t find it in him to hate Sho. “Please. There’s another way. Turn the ship back and we’ll find it. Don’t do this.”  
  
“How many times must I tell you that none of it mattered to me as much as it did to you for you to listen?” Sho asked. “I never wanted to be with you. I’ve found a way to stop this war from happening without your help and the least you can do is be useful for once, Jun. Don’t get in my way.”  
  
“Show me your face,” Jun said, and silence followed it from Sho’s side. “Look me in the eye and tell me all of this.”  
  
A few beats passed and there was nothing, just the intermittent static. He had to see Sho’s face to know if Sho’s words held truth. It didn’t matter if he’d be hurt in the process—he had to know.  
  
“Your desperation is pitiful,” Sho said after a moment. “There’s nothing more to say; you don’t understand a thing, anyway.”  
  
“You’re bluffing,” Jun said. “You can’t risk showing me how you look like because you know I’ll see through you.” Then, in a softer voice: “Come back. Please. There’s still time.”  
  
“Enough,” Sho said. “You can’t tell me what to do. You have no right.”  
  
“I’m not telling you what to do,” Jun clarified. “I’m asking you to come back. Not for me.” He looked behind him, at Keiko’s face and Iseya’s downcast one. He and Sho were speaking in a shipwide broadcast; everyone had heard them right from the beginning. “Come back for all those who believe in you. There’s no one else they’d follow.”  
  
“I made my decision,” Sho said, stubborn as ever. “I have a headstart and you won’t make it on time. This is goodbye, I think.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, just as he heard Keiko utter the same behind him.  
  
“Is Keiko there?” Sho asked. Then without waiting for the response, he continued, “You’re sworn to the empress now. Take care of my sister as you did me.”  
  
The channel was shut, and no matter how many times Jun tried to patch it through, Sho never responded again. He turned to Keiko and knew he had the same expression of distraught on his face.  
  
“If I take one of the ships,” Jun began, earning him a hard look from Iseya, “the same one he took, will I catch up to him?”  
  
“I know you’re a good pilot,” Iseya said, “but he’s gone way ahead. He’s doing jumps every now and then so we can’t map out his precise location. At most, he’ll be in Saiph an hour from now.”  
  
“There has to be a way we can stop him,” Jun insisted. He looked around, at all of the bridge crew present. “He’s going to die for you. For all of you. Surely you want to stop him?”  
  
“We can’t,” Keiko said, sounding frustrated. “I was counting on you.”  
  
“He never did any of this for me,” Jun said. “You heard him.”  
  
“He was trying to hurt you,” Keiko told him with a frown.  
  
“And he succeeded,” Jun admitted. “And yet, he’s doing something he’s not supposed to do. We have to stop him. You have more than a thousand ships in your fleet.”  
  
“Even if they pursue at maximum speed, by the time they reach Saiph, he’s already in the planet and they’ll be destroyed by the defenses at the gates,” Iseya said. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But he’s thought this through.”  
  
“No,” Jun said, shaking his head. “I can’t accept that. You’re telling me I should just stand here and accept that he’s going to die? I can’t. I tried so hard to prevent that in the past.” He looked at Keiko. “You did too, more than once, even before I knew him. You’re not going to give up, are you?”  
  
“I don’t want to,” Keiko said, voice hard. “But he’s given me no choice. He’s decided.”  
  
“No,” Jun said again. He gave them his back, not wanting them to see how he truly felt. “How can all of you just stand here when you’re going to lose the man who took you this far?”  
  
They had no answer for him, and Jun gave in, tears falling from his eyes.  
  
It should have been me, he thought, slamming his fist down the console. It should have been him on that ship, flying to Saiph at top speed to take Rina’s place.  
  
The communications console beeped, and Iseya rushed to open an incoming transmission. Jun, despite knowing better, still hoped to see Sho, but instead of his face on the viewscreen of the bridge, it was Nino.  
  
“Jun-kun?” Nino asked, and without pausing, continued with “We’re in. They bought the slaver charade. They believed I was a slave trader; we’re in the planet. We’re heading to the gates’ towers as we speak, but Oguri-kun here is already trying to get past the buffers to access the mainframe. If we manage to enter the tower, we’re in. Those gates will be down at your command.”  
  
You fool, Jun wanted to say to Sho. They had a chance. Why didn’t Sho wait?  
  
“Jun-kun?” Nino asked when Jun didn’t say a thing. “What are your orders once the gates are opened?” He looked around quickly and added, “Where’s the princeling?”  
  
“When the gates are down, I don’t want you and Shun to join the fight,” Jun said. “He’s heading there to Saiph. He thinks he can negotiate with Rina’s mother.”  
  
“I have no idea what’s going on but he’s doing something stupid, isn’t he?” Nino asked, shaking his head. “Don’t answer that. What do we do?”  
  
“Find him,” Jun said. “When we’re at the gates, open it for us. The commotion should serve as an adequate distraction. Find him and get him in your ship.”  
  
“All right,” Nino said. “We’re almost at the tower. You’ll know when we’ve got it.” He looked over his shoulder and said quickly, “Someone’s tailing us. I have to lose them. Until then.”  
  
The transmission ended with a wave of Nino’s hand, and Jun faced the rest of the bridge crew.  
  
“We will proceed as planned.” To Iseya: “Once we arrive at the gates, send word to Nino. They’ll know what to do. Tell Ohno and Aiba to transport themselves to this ship.”  
  
Iseya moved to obey, and Keiko said to Jun, “Are you in charge of us Hamali now that he’s gone?”  
  
“I’m not,” Jun said. “You are. You know what’s the best course of action. Advise me so I can tell the same to my men.”  
  
“There’s a conference room two decks below,” Keiko said, already heading out. “Iseya-san, please direct Ohno-san and Aiba-san there. And follow when you can.”  
  
“Got it,” Iseya said, and Keiko and Jun boarded the turbo lift.  
  
“We’ll get him back,” Keiko said, and she sounded convinced of it. “He’ll buy himself time. Whatever he’s planning, he’s going to execute it at the opportune moment. What do you think will happen to him when he gets there?”  
  
Jun went with the closest reality he could imagine. “He’ll take the blame for whatever my sister’s been accused of. My sister will be acquitted and the court will find him guilty. Rina’s mother won’t send him to the high prison; she loves a spectacle.”  
  
“She’ll have him executed,” Keiko said.  
  
Jun nodded grimly. Saiph may have had done away with that old method of punishment, but in favor of bringing out the mastermind to the murder of the late king, no one would protest. “Yes. But not yet. She’ll wait it out. She’ll do it with the entire planet watching, including Hamal. She’ll lord it over the Hamali, that she found a way to murder their emperor. It will be a public execution.”  
  
“In the event that we manage to infiltrate the planet, she might use that to stop us,” Keiko said. They reached the conference room and stopped by its doors.  
  
“Don’t let it stop you,” Jun said. “I know you want him safe. But only you can lead those men—his men. They will follow you, and you have to make sure we will win the fight.”  
  
“And what about him?” Keiko asked. “I can’t abandon him. I’m sworn to protect him.”  
  
“Do you trust me?” Jun asked.  
  
Keiko studied him, her eyes narrowing fractionally. “Yes. Yes, I do, despite your propensity for not listening to a word I say.”  
  
“Then trust me,” Jun said. “I won’t let him die. Not for me, for you, for your people, or for anyone.” If anything happened to Sho, Jun wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Even if Sho had said harsh, scathing words to him, he’d rather die than let something happen to Sho.  
  
Keiko’s face hardened with determination, her eyes on Jun’s. “I will bring you victory,” she said, extending a hand to him in offering, “and you will save my emperor and my planet.”  
  
“You have my word,” Jun said, accepting her hand and giving it a firm shake. He tilted his head towards the conference room, its doors sliding open for them. “Let’s go win the war.”  
  
\--  
  
Their talks had gone for hours. Keiko had gathered all troop leaders and high-ranking officers of Sho’s fleet, and Jun had had his sergeants assembled. It was already common knowledge that Sho was heading to Saiph to offer himself up to the Queen Regent, and that the most they could do at present was to buy him more time.  
  
“We have a day,” Jun said, “before the verdict is passed. It’s my belief that we’ll come to know when it happens; there might be a live transmission for us by then.”  
  
“It will be fleetwide broadcast,” Iseya said.  
  
“And so I ask everyone not to get riled up by what it says,” Keiko told them. “It will bait us, goad us, taunt us. We must stick to the plan and infiltrate that planet.” She looked at every Hamali present. “That’s the only way we can do our duty and protect our emperor.”  
  
There was a collective noise of affirmation from around them.  
  
“I swore to safeguard the future and the best interests of the Hamali when we formed the alliance,” Jun said. “I will not break that vow. Your emperor might have cut ties with us, but I have no plans of abandoning him. We leave no one behind.”  
  
“No one behind,” Jun’s men echoed. It had been Shun’s father who’d started that mindset, and it had been ingrained in every Saiphan soldier since.  
  
“Formations will be as you say,” Ohno said to Keiko. “But I think it’s best if we move the long-range fighter crafts to the flanks. The defensive maneuvers will still be activated even when the gates are opened. With the long-range ships, we can minimize the damage we’ll take at the center of each squadron.”  
  
“Then have them there,” Keiko said. “Will the Saiphan army be amenable to flying ahead of us? It’s your planet; you’re used to its gravitational pull and environment.”  
  
“We’ll buy you time so you can adjust accordingly,” one of Jun’s sergeants said in reassurance. “After the gates, it’ll be the airborne army that’ll be waiting for us.”  
  
“We’ll be ready for them,” Jun said. “We know their formations; Shun’s father’s tactics are still being implemented. We can break those lines.”  
  
“It’s as you say, Your Majesty,” his sergeant agreed. “We’ve already divided amongst ourselves on who takes which fort.” He looked at Ohno. “But we’re short on hands.”  
  
“Give me the roster and I’ll assign my men to their respective places,” Ohno said, and the sergeant bowed in understanding.  
  
Jun turned to Aiba. “Who’s in charge of the escape ship?”  
  
It was Aiba who had suggested that they should reserve one ship for escape, in the event that the ship Nino had would be destroyed in the fight. They still needed to extract Sho (and perhaps Rina) from the site, and Jun required the best ship the fleet had to offer.  
  
“It’s being refurbished according to Saiphan specs,” Aiba explained. “Kazama and the others are trying to make it look like an ordinary Saiphan ship. It’ll take a few hours, but it should be done by then.”  
  
“Let Nino know,” Jun said, and Aiba nodded. “He’s the only one I’m trusting to fly that, in case it’ll end up carrying the two people I’m trying to save.”  
  
He felt eyes on him, and he looked up to Ohno watching him.  
  
“Where will you be?” Ohno asked.  
  
The wise decision would be to stay in the flagship and demand for Saiph’s surrender. But Jun was never known to be wise, and he knew he could never sit still in the flagship while the others were fighting.  
  
“I need a ship,” Jun said.  
  
The protests came at once from all sides: Iseya shook his head, Aiba frowned, Keiko gave him a look that would make most men cower, his sergeants exclaimed their disapproval, and the Hamali stared at him as if he was mad.  
  
Perhaps he was.  
  
“I’m not staying here when all of you are out there, fighting,” Jun said.  
  
“If you get killed, even if we win the war, it’ll be for naught,” one of his sergeants said. “We’re fighting for you. You can’t endanger yourself like that.”  
  
“While the Emperor of Hamal has already endangered himself?” Jun asked. He was met with silence. “I will not hide. He’s on his way to my planet to broker a deal that won’t be beneficial to him. He’s risking his life already, and I swore I’ll put the interests of his people and mine first. This is a war, and what kind of king will I be if I cower in my ally’s flagship? I will fight with you.”  
  
The silence lasted for a moment, and it was Ohno’s hum that broke it.  
  
“Very well,” Ohno said. “We’ll give you a ship. But on one condition.”  
  
Jun’s eyebrow quirked. “You’ll make your demands to a king?”  
  
“I’m not sworn to you,” Ohno said simply, “only to your cause. Yes, I will make my demands. Since you decided to fight, you’re going to do it beside me.”  
  
“So you can watch over me?” Jun asked.  
  
“It’s what he’d want me to do,” Ohno said, and Jun felt a sting in his chest. “If he were here, he’d be angry I’m letting you fight, but he’d also know there’s no way of stopping you.”  
  
“Your emperor doesn’t hold me in regard as high as that,” Jun said quietly. Everybody had heard what Sho had said. Whatever had happened in the past months, none of it had meant a thing to Sho.  
  
You’re not important, Sho had told him.  
  
“I’m fighting for my people,” Jun said after a moment. For too long he’d listened to what his heart had been telling him. It had led him here, to this moment, and Jun thought he finally had enough. He’d fight, but not for one person. “For my planet. For the oath I swore that day in Hamal.” He looked at everyone present and asked, “Are you with me? For one last time?”  
  
There were verbal responses, but most just nodded. Some had their fists over their hearts, and Jun took a deep breath.  
  
“Then we fight for my crown and for the future,” he said. “May the stars shine upon you all.”  
  
“And you,” they replied in unison, and Jun nodded to Keiko to dismiss everyone.  
  
It took a few minutes before the room emptied; even Keiko had chosen to give Jun the space he’d wordlessly asked for. In his solitude, it all came rushing back: where he was, how he’d gotten here. He’d been through something no prince should have experienced. And yet, his time in Hamal had made him who he was—someone who was fighting for what he believed in.  
  
They were so close to the end. Either he was going to get his throne or he’d be killed in combat, but the outcome didn’t truly matter to Jun. He’d neglected his people long enough, had been selfish for too long. In the end, it was Sho who’d made the decision for him.  
  
He was on his own now. He had to lead. Jun didn’t know half of what he was doing, but he knew where he should be. He’d been fighting for months for this moment.  
  
He was going home.  
  
\--  
  
Before they’d make their final jump to hyperspace to reach Saiph, they made a stop at an uninhabited remnant of an Old World colony. In Saiph, it was known as Mintaka. The Hamali, apparently, had referred to it as a wasteland.  
  
Unlike Denebia’s settlements rising from above the dunes, Mintaka had dried, caked earth for its terrain. If a colony had settled here as per the historians’ recount of an old tale, there was no sign of them left. Mintaka looked close to an uninhabited, desolate asteroid with terraforming towers that had been responsible for the existence of its atmosphere.  
  
There was hardly any disturbance in the earth as they made their landing. Their men moved fast and with purpose: boarding ships, doing test runs on each. They’d make the final jump in an hour or two, and they already had more than half of their men in their respective ships and airborne.  
  
It was Ohno who led Jun to the ship he’d be using. It was Hamali in design, a fighter class that was also capable of evasive maneuvers. Ohno’s explanation for it was “They’d hardly expect the Saiphan king to board a Hamali ship again.”  
  
Jun thought better not to comment. Rina’s mother would likely target all Hamali ships; she’d undoubtedly deduce that Jun would try to camouflage himself. But they had thousands of Hamali ships, and Jun suspected that he was wanted alive rather than dead.  
  
“You know how to pilot her,” Ohno said.  
  
“Of course,” Jun said. It was his marksmanship that he lacked confidence in, not his flying.  
  
But there was no time for training. He was out of time. They’d have the verdict a few hours from now. His, Rina’s, and Sho’s fates were all tied together, and Jun knew that the closer he got to his home planet, the sooner he’d find out the outcome of the war.  
  
If Ohno was about to say something, it was interrupted by the sudden blaring of alarms. All soldiers on land ran to form lines, and Ohno slipped his goggles on and looked up. Jun followed his line of sight, and there, from the thinning skies that showed the glittering, foreign constellations, a ship was approaching.  
  
“It’s one of ours,” Ohno said, and he raised his cybernetic arm to signal his men to hold fire. Above, the airborne ships had already moved to flank the approaching one.  
  
Jun shared a look with Ohno, and he knew that he had the same hope in his eyes.  
  
“It’s the one Sho-kun took,” Ohno said.  
  
The ship had a rough landing, sending debris everywhere as it took twice as long for its thrusters to completely shut off. Ohno had his men aim their weapons at the hatch and Jun remained behind Ohno, hearing nothing else but the drumming beat of his heart.  
  
The steam that erupted when the hatch opened was simultaneous with the switching on of phasers. Jun took one sweeping glance at the men around him—a mixture of Hamali and Saiphans. There was the unmistakable hope in the eyes of the former; perhaps their emperor had chosen to come back, after all.  
  
“Don’t shoot,” a voice said, and Jun thought his heart must have stopped. “I need to speak with—”  
  
Their eyes met, and Jun said her name disbelievingly.  
  
“Rina.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: take note of the injury tag. Some hurtful stuff is in here.

It took all of what Jun had to order their men to stand down. Some had hesitated; the usurper was right in front of them. But Rina was unarmed, her hands raised in the air in an act of surrender. She knelt when Keiko asked her to, her eyes never leaving Jun’s. She permitted the search, and Keiko came up with nothing, stepping back after declaring Rina was clear.  
  
The last time Jun had seen her in person, she had stroked his face and had him sent to Hamal shortly after. She appeared to have aged since then: gone was the regal, sophisticated beauty she had. She was still beautiful, but there were undeniable signs of weariness on her face. She wore a simple dress of faded hues and had no jewelry on her person.  
  
Jun had no idea where he found the strength to move, but he was able to meet her halfway, the crowd giving them space despite the soldiers still pointing their phasers and rifles at her. He couldn’t help flinching when her hand reached out for him; he was, involuntarily, afraid that there’d be a repeat of the last time.  
  
Rina noticed his reaction and lowered her hand. She looked conflicted, as if she didn’t know what to say.  
  
“How did you get here?” Jun asked, but he had an inkling already. It filled him with dread.  
  
Rina looked behind him, at everyone who was listening. “The Emperor of Hamal arranged for my release.”  
  
It sent the soldiers around them to a state of unease. If that was what had happened, then the verdict had been passed. Jun didn’t have a few hours anymore.  
  
He had none.  
  
“What was your sentence?” Jun asked. “What did he do?”  
  
“We should talk somewhere private,” Rina said.  
  
“No,” Jun refused, shaking his head. He gestured behind him, around them. “These are his people. They deserve to know.”  
  
Rina looked regretful, but after a breath, said, “You know what I was charged with: treason against the Saiphan crown, murder of the late king, and for orchestrating the escape of the Crown Prince. My mother put all the blame on you, that you ran away with my help after killing father.”  
  
“Lies,” Jun couldn’t help saying, his temper rising.  
  
“I stood for those crimes. Ten days of grueling trial before the council, but on the ninth day, I knew what the verdict would be. They would have me executed. Doing so would appease father’s loyalists and turn them over to my mother and her council’s side. They were hoping that with my death, you’d be compromised enough that you can no longer stage a counterattack.”  
  
“But you’re here,” Jun said, and he was beginning to piece things together. “No. Tell me he didn’t.”  
  
Rina exhaled slowly. “The Emperor of Hamal came to the palace, having surrendered to my mother’s army. He took responsibility for what I was charged with, claiming it was his plan all along.”  
  
“He’d never,” Jun said, and he could hear the protests from every Hamali already. “He couldn’t have.”  
  
Rina gave a grim nod. “But none of the council members knew that. He claimed he had orchestrated father’s murder, had taken you hostage, and that I was acting according to his orders. That he was admitting to his crimes because he’s losing, and he’s come to save himself. When I learned of it, I was being released, and their reason was a credible evidence just surfaced. By the time I knew what was happening, I was being led to the ship the Emperor had used.”  
  
Jun had to look away. What was Sho thinking? He knew he’d get a death sentence given the gravity of what he’d admitted.  
  
“The sentence,” Jun said in a hollow voice.  
  
“It’s a public execution,” Rina said. “In the palace square, the dawn after tomorrow.”  
  
“We don’t have time,” Jun heard Ohno say. “We’ll make it there barely before dawn.”  
  
“And the gates will never open for you,” Rina said. She looked at Jun sadly. “Jun, I’m sorry—”  
  
“No,” Jun said. “He will not die. I won’t let him die. Not for something he never did. How did you know we’ll be in Mintaka? Who told you where to go?”  
  
Rina’s voice was lowered in pitch when she said, “We should speak in private. You and I.”  
  
Jun took one look at her expression. “What else do you want us to know? His people to know?”  
  
“He’s being kept in the prison tower,” Rina said. “I know because that’s where they kept me. If Shun is with you, he’d know where to go, how to get there undetected. I’m assuming he is alive; I see the rest of your royal guard with you. The execution will last for a few hours—they’ll want to drag it out since he pleaded guilty. You have time, but it might not be enough.”  
  
“It will be enough,” Jun declared, facing Ohno. “Let the fleet know.” To Aiba, who stood nearby, he said: “Tell me Nino knows about the escape ship.”  
  
“He does, and he’s awaiting orders,” Aiba said.  
  
“Tell him he’s to extract the Emperor as soon as the gates are opened,” Jun said. He could sense the confused look Rina had for him and hastily explained, “Shun’s on his way to open those gates. Tomorrow, we will infiltrate the planet.”  
  
“If you succeed, you will provoke her,” Rina said. “She’ll move the execution earlier if you do that.”  
  
“Then what would you have me do?!” Jun demanded. “The war is happening.”  
  
“You can wait it out,” Rina said. “It would be the sensible thing to do.”  
  
“And let him die?” Jun shook his head. “No. That’s what he wants to do, but I’m not going to let him. He’s not dying for anyone or for any cause. If you have nothing helpful to say, stay out of the way.”  
  
He was angry. Sho had done something incredibly stupid, taking the offer in Jun’s stead. Protecting him and saving Rina as well. At the expense of his own empire, his crown, everything he’d fought for all his life.  
  
And for what reason?  
  
“Mobilize the army,” Jun said, and Ohno started giving out orders. “We jump to hyperspace an hour from now. All preparations must be completed until then.”  
  
“And you?” Ohno asked.  
  
“I will fight beside you,” Jun said. “As it is planned. Go.”  
  
Ohno nodded, and Jun heard Keiko dismissing the crowd. There was a rush of movement from everywhere: soldiers were running to their respective assignments and ships were assuming battle formations as they exited the atmosphere.  
  
A member of his personal guard remained, his phaser pointed at Rina, and Jun almost told him to leave. But this was as private as it could be, and with everyone going to their designated positions, no one would pay attention to them. Time was of the essence.  
  
In the noise, Jun had his private moment with Rina.  
  
“Tell me,” Jun said. “No one’s around to hear you now.”  
  
“I don’t know what history you shared with the Hamali emperor,” Rina said.  
  
“There’s nothing to speak of,” Jun said in dismissal. “What was it that you didn’t want everyone to hear?”  
  
“Before I was released and he took my place, the Emperor asked to speak with me in private for a minute. That was all the time my mother had allowed him.”  
  
Hope bloomed in Jun’s heart. “Did he have any particular order?”  
  
“We were being watched and he appeared as if he didn’t trust me,” Rina explained. “Understandable. But for most of that minute, he was only looking at me. Perhaps observing how close we resembled one another in looks.”  
  
Jun averted his eyes, watching the ships flying overhead instead. “Did he say anything?”  
  
“Yes,” Rina said after a moment. “Though I didn’t understand his meaning. I think you would.”  
  
That made Jun look at Rina, and his sister told him, “He said that before he arrived in the palace, he saw the sky.” Jun shut his eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion. “That it was indeed blue. And it looked beautiful.”  
  
Heat prickled at the corner of Jun’s eyes. Sho had been lying. Everything he’d said to Jun on the bridge of the flagship, within earshot of everybody else—all of that had been lies. He’d hurt Jun on purpose, perhaps to send Jun away or prevent Jun from following him.  
  
You love too much, he’d told Sho once.  
  
For a moment, Jun didn’t speak. He knew his face was showing how he truly felt. Then: “I’m not letting him die for me.” He met Rina’s eyes. “He saved you. Even if he was the one who kept telling me your transmission might be a trap.”  
  
A shift in Rina’s expression, and Jun continued, “And now he’s trying to save me. Help me. I can’t lose him. Not when he brought you back to me.”  
  
Rina was silent for a few beats. “You asked who told me to go to Mintaka. When I boarded his ship, my course was set already. The ship was headed here after Saiph. I believe the Emperor knew where I should go.” She paused, taking in Jun’s expression. “What do you need me to do?”  
  
“Shun along with a skilled pilot is in Saiph right now, awaiting orders. When I give the word, they will open the gates. I suspect their ship will be detected once they do that, and so we’ve prepared an escape ship for them,” Jun explained.  
  
“You want me to pilot that ship,” Rina concluded. “This isn’t wise. Your men don’t trust me.” She gestured to the phaser pointed at her back. “They think I’d run away the first chance I get.”  
  
“And you might,” Jun told her. “I know you might.”  
  
“Then why are you trusting me?” Rina asked. “After everything I put you through?”  
  
You love too much, Sho had said.  
  
“Because you said he spent most of that minute with you just looking at you,” Jun said. “He told me once he wasn’t kind, but he was fair. He wouldn’t have saved you just for me. He wouldn’t have traded places with you if he saw you weren’t worth it.”  
  
Jun was naïve, and he knew better than to trust his own judgment.  
  
But he trusted Sho’s.  
  
Rina looked up and observed the ships overhead for a moment. “You are planning to fight.”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said.  
  
She faced him once more. “Board that ship with me,” she said, using an authoritative voice Jun could recall well from his youth. “Help me help you.”  
  
“I should be fighting,” Jun said. “These people are fighting for him, for me. I should stand with them.”  
  
“And if you die and if I arrive too late, these people will have no one to fight for,” Rina said. “I can’t fly a ship on my own. You saw how awful my landing was earlier. Do you think that despite the chaos that will ensue once your forces have entered Saiph, I’d still be able to escape detection on my own?”  
  
Jun didn’t respond, and Rina simply nodded.  
  
“Do you trust these men? All of those who are sworn to you.”  
  
Jun didn’t think twice. “Yes.”  
  
“Then trust them to hold off my mother’s army,” Rina said. “We take that escape ship and get the Hamali emperor ourselves. I can’t do it alone, but I can do it if you’re there. You know the prison tower as well as I do.”  
  
“Do you think we can slip inside the planet?” Jun asked. “The two of us in a ship?”  
  
“I think we can,” Rina said. “We’ve done so many things together. This is just another thing that we have to do together.”  
  
“I’ve heard rumors that you reinforced the security system of the palace,” Jun said. “How will we get in?”  
  
“My mother isn’t queen yet. As long as you exist as a claimant, as the rightful heir, she’ll never be queen,” Rina said. “And I’m still a Saiphan princess. We can get in. I’ve lived in those walls for the past months, have seen the reinforcements take place. I know my way around them.”  
  
“But you can’t fly a ship,” Jun said. “At least not as well as you have to.”  
  
“That’s why I need you,” Rina said. “All of this started between us.”  
  
Jun met her determined gaze, knowing it was a mirror of his own. He and Rina had facial resemblance, save for the softer contour of her face. At one look, no one would think they had different mothers.  
  
“And so it shall end with us,” Jun said. “You will really fight your mother?”  
  
“She took my freedom from me. I abdicated because it was the right thing to do, because I knew I could never rule in the way I was expected to.” Rina shut her eyes. “Then she killed my father and told me to kill you.” She looked at Jun now. “That’s why I returned. I knew she’d find a way to kill you and I had to stop that no matter what. I was too late to prevent father’s death, but I still had time to prevent yours.”  
  
“So you sent me to Hamal?” Jun asked, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone.  
  
The regret was palpable in Rina’s expression. “It was the one place in the galaxy where she wouldn’t think to look for you.”  
  
“You knew they could’ve killed me, had they found out who I really was,” Jun said.  
  
“But he didn’t kill you,” Rina said. “I thought he would. For months, I lived in fear that one day I’d receive word that the Hamali had executed the Crown Prince of Saiph after discovering his identity. But nothing came.”  
  
“He knew who I was,” Jun said, remembering Sho’s words. “He figured it out sooner than everybody else.”  
  
“Why didn’t he kill you?”  
  
Jun couldn’t help a sad smile from crossing his features. “Because he’s not a killer. He does things that seem inexplicable, but there’s always a motive behind it.”  
  
Rina merely looked at him, until Jun grew slightly self-conscious of the scrutiny. Then, she said, “He cares for you.”  
  
Jun had no response for that.  
  
Rina faced the other way, and after a moment, told him, “I kept your garden.”  
  
Jun turned to her in surprise. He thought all that he had in Saiph had been destroyed.  
  
“My mother wanted me to throw away all your possessions after I made my oath as Queen. I let her do as she pleased, but I didn’t allow her to touch your garden,” Rina said. “I know how much you loved tending to your plants. Your tree is almost blooming. You should see it.”  
  
“I plan to,” Jun said. With him, he didn’t add, but he supposed Rina already knew. She had that glint in her eye that spoke volumes. She always saw through him.  
  
Eventually Rina smiled, a soft one that accentuated her beauty. “Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” She walked onward, and Jun matched his pace with hers.  
  
“Come, brother,” she said. “Let’s find our ship.”  
  
\--  
  
It took a lengthy argument for them to convince Keiko and Iseya. Ohno and Aiba were mostly silent, but they shared knowing looks every now and then, as if they’d known Jun would eventually choose to handle the extraction himself.  
  
Iseya’s stand was that Jun going was too much of a risk. If he failed, they’d lose both him and Sho. Keiko’s protest was centered on her distrust for Rina, that she could still be acting according to her mother’s wishes despite everything.  
  
“I meant no disrespect, Saiphan king,” Keiko said, and it marked the first time she’d addressed Jun in such a manner, “but she should be in chains, somewhere in the prison cells of the flagship. She gave the order to raid Esdes.”  
  
“I know what she’s done,” Jun said, calmly.  
  
“And is it so easy to forgive and to forget?” Keiko asked.  
  
“No one here has suffered in her hands more than I have,” Jun said.  
  
“Have you gone mad, then?” Keiko asked bluntly. “You’re asking us—all of us—to trust the person who has already betrayed you?”  
  
Jun told them he’d risk it. Sho had already risked everything to ensure that Jun had a chance. But Jun would never leave Sho, and he expressed that sentiment to the best of his ability.  
  
Keiko threw him one disapproving look and said, “If you die, he’s going to murder me.”  
  
“Then let’s hope I don’t,” Jun said simply.  
  
“I can’t stop you,” Keiko said with a barely suppressed sigh. “I already tried.”  
  
Iseya shook his head. “I want to say I’m surprised but I’m really not.” He gave Jun a long, suffering look. “This is just a repeat of Lucida Ventris, on how you were always by his side.”  
  
Jun could feel the tips of his ears heating up, and he hoped Rina wouldn’t notice. “I think a part of him knows what I’m about to do. He’s just hoping I won’t actually do it.”  
  
“But here you are,” Iseya said, spreading his palms for effect. He turned to Keiko. “We have to make sure their ship enters the planet unscathed.”  
  
“Leave that to me and the captain,” Aiba said, stepping forward. “The divisions are ready, and Oh-chan volunteered to be the decoy so they’ll think the Saiphan king is right in the middle of the fight.”  
  
“Then we will assist you as best as we can,” Keiko said. “I still don’t trust Her Highness—” she glanced at Rina who only met her stare evenly, “—but I trust you, Majesty.” She pulled out a phaser from its holster in her belt and handed it to Jun. “It should go without saying, but just in case she betrays you in the end.”  
  
“Will you stop worrying if I take that?” Jun asked, looking at the weapon in her hand.  
  
“Yes,” Keiko said. “After all, I already taught you what to do with it.”  
  
Jun shared a look with Rina, and at her relenting nod, took the phaser and slipped it in his belt. “Protect our ship and we’ll find him. I’m not leaving until I’ve found him.”  
  
“None of us thought you would,” Iseya said. “We were just wondering how long it’d take you to change your mind about fighting with us when you could sneak into your planet and save him yourself. It’s what you want to do, right?”  
  
Jun wondered how obvious he was in front of these people that they seemed to share this uniform assessment of his future actions. “Once he’s safe, I plan to go out there and fight—”  
  
“We know,” Ohno said, cutting him off. “But you don’t have to. All of us here are worried about him. But you’re also the only person we can trust to not let anything happen to him, so we do our job and you do yours.” Ohno paused and added belatedly, “Majesty.”  
  
Jun couldn’t suppress a smile. “Nino’s rubbing off you, Ohno-san.” The lack of care towards titles was inherently an attitude of Nino’s.  
  
“One day you’re just going to swindle people,” Aiba joked, which earned him an elbow from Ohno and a snort from Iseya. Aiba looked at Jun and said, “You just have to get to the palace, right?”  
  
“That’s right,” Jun said.  
  
“Then as soon as the gates are open, focus on flying. Leave the shooting to us,” Aiba said. “All of us.” He gestured to everyone present, and the other three nodded. “Keiko-chan and the others will flank you, but only as far as the entrance to the planet’s atmosphere. Gravity should do the rest, so we’re relying on your piloting skills to evade every patrolling ship around the citadel.”  
  
“Got it,” Jun said. He shared a look with Rina, who only nodded. “Thank you.”  
  
“Thank us when this is over,” Ohno said. He inclined his head and considered himself dismissed despite Jun not uttering a word, and the rest followed suit.  
  
When he heard the doors slide shut, Rina said, “You used to be mindful of the way people addressed you.”  
  
“I had to kill the prince in order to survive as a soldier,” Jun said. He meant himself, and he could see that Rina understood.  
  
She looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I can’t begin to think of what you had to endure, what you’ve been hurt with. I know most of those were because of me.”  
  
“It made me who I am,” Jun said. He didn’t know yet if he’d already forgiven Rina. But there was no time to address his anger if Sho was still in danger. “I’m not the Jun you remember.”  
  
Rina was looking at him knowingly. “I saw. The Jun I grew up with would have opted for diplomacy rather than engage in combat. You loved your freedom. All those trips to colonies under Saiph’s protection, all those vacations to leisure planetoids—you did that to escape.”  
  
“Not everyone escapes in the literal sense like you did,” Jun said. “I couldn’t abdicate after you.”  
  
Rina stared at him. “Do you not want to be king?”  
  
Jun considered it and said, “With everything that’s happening, I know I have to.”  
  
“That’s not what I asked,” Rina said.  
  
“I do,” Jun affirmed.  
  
“Because he’s the Emperor of Hamal?”  
  
Jun thought about it. “Partly, yes.”  
  
“Partly?”  
  
“I want to make things right as well,” Jun clarified. “Father took Mesartim from the Hamali and made us believe he was liberating slaves from their handlers. Your mother declared the Hamali hostile when they’re the only ones in the galaxy willing to help me take back what’s mine. We’ve wronged them enough, and once I become king, I want to make amends.”  
  
“Because you care for them,” Rina said. Jun didn’t miss that she hadn’t phrased that as a question.  
  
“I learned how,” Jun said. “I’ve lived with them, trained with them, fought with them. I saw that they’re not the savages our historians accused them to be. You might not see it now, but they’re just like us. People who’ve been cultured to hate the other.”  
  
Rina looked out, at the traces left by the officers who had recently departed the room. “You’ve united the kingdoms. Not fully, but the framework is already there. You’ve done something father and his father before him thought to be impossible.”  
  
“I didn’t do it alone,” Jun said. He’d never been alone in a long time, he thought. He and Sho were separated, but not apart.  
  
They’d never be.  
  
He felt Rina’s hand on his forearm, a reassuring gesture she’d often done when they’d been young. “We’ll get him back.”  
  
“Will we?”  
  
“Will you accept otherwise?”  
  
She knew him too well. “No,” Jun said.  
  
“I thought so.” Rina strode out, stopping right in between the now opened doors. “Come. Your emperor waits for you.”  
  
“He doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Jun remembered, following Rina out.  
  
“Then we must make haste,” Rina said. “I already committed many offenses against his crown since he wore it. I intend not to commit anything more by delaying his rescue.”  
  
\--  
  
All ships in their fleet did the jump on Iseya’s command, and when they broke out of hyperspace, Jun saw towering gates he hadn’t laid eyes on for almost a year.  
  
Beyond them was Saiph, spherical and blue. Their history had said the planet looked too similar to that of the Old World. The only difference according to the books was that Saiph still had one supercontinent that comprised its landmass.  
  
“Welcome home,” Rina said beside him. She was on the navigations, constantly checking equations and ship performance.  
  
“I don’t feel like I’ve returned home,” Jun admitted in a small voice. He could sense Rina throwing a glance at him.  
  
Saiph was the home of Crown Prince Jun, who hadn’t existed for months. Jun had expected to feel something upon seeing his home planet, but there was only the resonating emptiness in him. Past the gates was the planet, and in the planet was Sho, who was fighting on his own.  
  
There were too many things to focus on. Above them was the flagship and their orders for Nino had long been sent. Jun was camouflaged amongst all fighter ships, but anything could go wrong. Their ship, after all, had a Saiphan design.  
  
Iseya had a fleetwide channel open to serve as a private communication for all ships within range, and Jun held his breath when the flagship received a transmission request from within the planet itself.  
  
“It’s her,” was all Rina said, just as Iseya accepted, revealing the face of Rina’s mother on their screens.  
  
They saw her blink, presumably at Iseya, before her mouth quirked. “I was expecting to see the claimant.”  
  
“You mean the rightful king of Saiph,” Iseya corrected.  
  
“He’s not on the throne,” Rina’s mother said. “And he’s also not there. I can only begin to wonder where he is.” She made a show of looking around despite not seeing anything past the bridge of the flagship. “I presume he’s listening somewhere.”  
  
“Perhaps he left,” Iseya said calmly. “I speak for the rest of the Hamali. We’re here for our Emperor.”  
  
“I thought something like this would happen,” she said. “Very well.”  
  
Jun heard Rina inhale sharply before he felt her hand wrapping firmly around his forearm. But Jun couldn’t give her a glance. All he could look at was their viewscreen and how Sho’s battered and severely bruised face was now on it. The face Jun had touched with care and kissed with affection. Sho wasn’t in the throne hall; he was in one of the cells of the prison tower just as Rina had told Jun, connected to the transmission via a live feed.  
  
“You said he wouldn’t come,” Rina’s mother said, and Jun realized she was speaking to Sho. “But that’s his army of traitors I see along with yours.”  
  
“You’re losing,” Sho said, and despite the heavy bruising, he attempted to smile.  
  
“They have no way to enter the planet,” Rina’s mother told him, and she turned to Iseya once more. “I assure you, I ordered him not to be harmed. But you’d have to forgive my men for seeking justice. You know what your emperor pleaded guilty to, how he’s about to serve his sentence.”  
  
“Liar,” Jun said, and he caught Rina shaking her head at him. They weren’t connected to the transmission, just watching it real-time, but if he got too riled up, he’d lose focus. Still, he couldn’t bear to see Sho trapped alone in a cell, hurting and awaiting execution.  
  
If Jun could, he’d run to him, take him away from everything that was hurting him. He’d been hurt enough.  
  
“We thought you’d like to parley,” Iseya said, but Jun could see he was exerting effort to keep his composure.  
  
“Yes, but not with you,” Rina’s mother said. “The claimant. Where is he?”  
  
Jun moved to access the communication buffers, but Rina stopped him, her hands gripping his wrists tight. “This is what she wants. She wants to draw you out. Don’t fall for it.”  
  
“She hurt him,” Jun said. “Do you expect me to just sit here and be quiet?”  
  
“Yes,” Rina said. “I know that’s hard to do right now, but listen to me. I know how she thinks. She’ll use him to get to you, and you mustn’t let that happen. Not when the gates will open any minute.”  
  
“The King of Saiph relayed no wishes to speak with you, unless you want to discuss your surrender,” Iseya said.  
  
They all heard a snort, and Jun realized that Sho was laughing. Despite his state, he had clearly found Iseya’s cheek to be amusing.  
  
Rina’s mother looked thoughtful for a moment. “Then I’ll make him a deal,” she said, and Jun braced himself. “Him for the Emperor of Hamal.”  
  
“No,” Rina said beside him. “Jun, don’t fall for it. She just wants you there so she can kill you both. She will never let him walk out of this alive, not with what he’s done to her plans.”  
  
“To the claimant,” Rina’s mother said, “I know you’re listening. I know you can see him. You still have time. Reveal yourself and he can go free.”  
  
“He won’t come,” Sho said, ending in a cough. “You’re looking desperate now, Queen Regent. Surrender.”  
  
“He will come,” Rina’s mother said. The easy confidence sent Jun’s skin to gooseflesh. She looked at the screen as if she could see Jun right through it. “Won’t you, Jun?”  
  
It was the first time Jun had heard her say his name. He felt Rina’s hand on his arm, squeezing once.  
  
“You have two hours left before his execution happens,” she told him. Despite Iseya’s rebuffs and protests, she continued, “In two hours, you will have nothing left. No father, no mother. And soon, he’ll follow suit.”  
  
Rage coursed through him. This was the woman who had taken everything away from him. Whenever he thought he’d found a glimmer of happiness, she’d made sure to shatter it. He had no doubt she’d kill Sho if that was what would make him suffer.  
  
“Unless you come here and speak with me like the king you’re claiming to be,” Rina’s mother said. “If you push through with this hopeless plan of yours, he’ll die. In the past months, I’ve heard rumors that the Emperor of Hamal has become infatuated with a Saiphan. I can only think of one.”  
  
“You’re speaking to no one. He won’t come,” Sho said, but there was an edge to his voice now, as if he was addressing Jun.  
  
One of her eyebrows arched. “Is that what you hope for?”  
  
“He won’t,” Sho said firmly. He could barely open one eye because of the bruising, but he still attempted to speak. “He’s nothing to me.”  
  
Rina’s mother hummed. “I’ve heard from my husband that you’re an unpleasant man. Is that why you’re so confident? Because you think you managed to push away the only person who’s ever loved you?”  
  
Sho said nothing, but Jun noticed that he held himself very still.  
  
“Looking a little desperate, aren’t we, Emperor?” Rina’s mother smiled. “You think you can outsmart everyone. But I know Jun. He won’t abandon you.” She turned back to the screens and said, “Because you can’t afford to lose another one, can you? You were unable to help your mother. Then your father. Also Rina. And now him.”  
  
“You can’t reach him,” Sho said. “You know you’re losing that’s why you’re resorting to these tactics. They won’t work. Once my army enters your planet, you’ve already lost the war.”  
  
“I think not,” Rina’s mother said. She waved her hand and Sho’s feed was cut off. She remained silent, a smile still plastered on her face.  
  
Then the screams came.  
  
Rina’s grip on him tightened but he was already out of his chair and gripping the edges of the console tight. They were Sho’s screams, and it was evident that she’d ordered for him to be hurt so Jun could hear it happening, would know that he was, once again, powerless to prevent harm from coming to someone who was important to him.  
  
“He’s endured quite a lot, you see,” Rina’s mother said conversationally amidst Sho’s cries of pain. Whatever she had her men do to him, they weren’t holding back. “I asked him so many questions about you, Jun. He never gave me a straight answer, always seeking to impress. I think he came here fully prepared to die for you. It’s the only reason I can think of on why he’d willingly give himself up so you’ll be king.” She was examining her cuticles now. “He never asks for the torture to stop. He thinks he can endure it. I want to see how long he’ll last this time before he passes out. It won’t be the first time it’s happened; he’s been in and out of it for the past few days.”  
  
Jun pulled away from Rina’s grip and before she could stop him and in a moment of heightened fury, punched the console. He could do nothing from where he was. His heart broke for Sho, who was still fighting, his cries ringing in the background.  
  
“You won’t let him die, of course,” Rina’s mother said. “This is on you now, Jun.”  
  
“Don’t listen to her,” Rina pleaded beside him. “Don’t do as I once did.”  
  
“Should I do nothing, then?” Jun asked through gritted teeth. Whatever was happening to Sho was yet to cease. “They’re hurting him and you’re saying I shouldn’t listen to her? How do I make her stop?”  
  
“She’s trying to get to you,” Rina said.  
  
“She already has!” Jun cried. Even if Sho stopped, Jun thought he’d still hear his screams. Sho was alone and hurting, suffering because of Jun. “She has him. And right now she’s hurting him for sport.” He met Rina’s eyes with conviction. “I don’t care if she’s your mother. I’ll kill her for everything she’s done to my family.”  
  
“You can’t kill her from here,” Rina said. “Sit down. Focus. She doesn’t know where you are so she’s trying to draw you out. Don’t give away your advantage.”  
  
Jun had to attempt to regulate his breathing. In his mind, he kept repeating the words he hoped Sho would hear: I’m here. Wait for me. I’m coming for you.  
  
“That’s enough,” they heard Rina’s mother say, and the screams abruptly ceased. They would undoubtedly play in Jun’s head for days. “We don’t want him to die. Yet.” She turned to the screen and said, “Matsumoto Jun. I should have done away with you when I had the chance, instead of entrusting it to my daughter who’s grown fond of you. But no matter. You can still save him if you wish. Surrender to the gates, and he shall go free.”  
  
Rina gave him a look and shook her head once.  
  
“The offer expires in less than an hour from now,” Rina’s mother said. “I don’t think the emperor can wait longer than that, anyway. We both know what you plan to do—”  
  
Sirens rang and past her transmission, beyond the glass windows, was a sight Jun had been waiting for since the drop from hyperspace. Nino and Shun had succeeded: the gates were opening without the knowledge of the Saiphan military, and the sirens were calling for defensive maneuvers.  
  
Jun grabbed the joystick and barked at their ship’s AI to revert all power to thrusters. The live transmission they had with Rina’s mother was breaking up, but Jun was able to flip a switch to open his communications with her.  
  
“You’re losing,” he said, and he saw Rina’s mother had set her jaw and kept her head high. “Iseya-san offered to accept your surrender and you refused. As the rightful king of Saiph, I’ve come to take what’s mine.”  
  
The last thing Jun saw was a look of utter hatred from Rina’s mother before the transmission completely broke off and disappeared.  
  
He focused on flying past the defensive buffers and the shields. Aiba and Keiko’s divisions had him flanked on the sides, but when he felt gravity kick in, they pulled back as planned. He had no doubt Saiph’s military had already spotted their ship, but when Jun expected a shootout to happen, there was none.  
  
Their ship had already breached the atmosphere of the planet, causing a minor turbulence that Jun made up for by pulling the brakes. As soon as the ship had stabilized itself, Rina began readjusting the ship’s evasive maneuvers, their missiles and cannons ready to fire. She stopped at the same time as Jun did, lifting her head from the console to look out.  
  
“They’re not firing,” Jun said. He chanced a glance at her, at the look of confusion on her face. “Why aren’t they firing? We’re in the planet.”  
  
“They’re surrounding us,” Rina said, and Jun saw her hand hover over the switch of the torpedoes. It was the strongest weapon of the ship but of limited count, and if they fire them, they could buy themselves a bit of time. “They’re—no. Look.”  
  
Jun did, and he saw a path made by the Saiphan military for them. Nobody was firing, and Jun could almost hear Sho’s voice warning him that this was a trap.  
  
The communications console beside him beeped, and Jun flicked his finger over it to accept. Above, past the planet’s atmosphere, Iseya and the others were fighting. He and Rina were the only ones in a ship that actually made it into the planet, and if they didn’t tread carefully, they’d lose their chance at getting Sho back.  
  
“My King,” Jun heard as soon as he accepted the transmission, “the Saiphan army wishes to escort you back to the palace. Your palace. Welcome home.”  
  
Rina seemed as bewildered as he was when they shared a look.  
  
Figuring he had nothing to lose, Jun asked, “Where is the Emperor of Hamal?”  
  
“In the tower,” was the answer. “The Queen Regent has disappeared.”  
  
“Coward,” Jun said. To Rina: “Don’t lower our shields. We don’t know what this might be.”  
  
“I wasn’t planning to,” Rina said. “But if she fled, then there’s no one ruling.”  
  
“Are you saying they reverted to me?” Jun asked. To whoever he was speaking with: “Who’s your monarch?”  
  
“You, my King. We’ve come to escort you.”  
  
“And the Queen?” Jun asked.  
  
“She’s not our Queen.”  
  
“I do not wish to go to the palace,” Jun said. If the offer was true, he would find out. “Escort me to the prison tower, to where the Emperor of Hamal is.”  
  
“As you wish.”  
  
The communications channel went silent, and the ships surrounding them assumed a formation that gave Jun an easy way to the palace. The prison tower was just beyond, standing tall behind the citadel itself. Its tip looked like it was piercing the sky, imposing and threatening. Jun wanted it torn down as soon as Sho was out of it.  
  
The tower kept its most important prisoners at the floors beneath the ground. The lower the level, the tougher the security. Its entrance was situated at the top, and Jun was able to land their ship safely. The military still surrounded them, but their weapons weren’t aimed at them. They were pointed towards the sky, in case of any other intruders.  
  
“I don’t like this,” Rina said as soon as Jun had given up manual control of the ship. Their shields were still up, and Jun was yet to open the hatch. “This is a trap.”  
  
“We managed to get here without anyone firing at us,” Jun said. “I don’t trust them either, but what choice do we have?” They looked outside and saw a small group of soldiers waiting by the ship’s hatch.  
  
“Send me instead,” Rina said.  
  
“No,” Jun said immediately. “Your mother might still be here. Somewhere here.”  
  
“Of course she’s here,” Rina said. “The Emperor of Hamal is the only bargaining chip that she has left. She’s in this tower as we speak, perhaps intending to use him. Send me as your herald. Don’t leave the ship.”  
  
“And if something happens to you?” Jun reached for Rina’s hand. “I just got you back. You’re the only family I have left.”  
  
Rina squeezed his fingers, keeping her grip firm. “You’re too much of a risk. You understand, don’t you? You’re the king. Should anything happen to me, get the ship out of here. Fly out. Your army is on its way.”  
  
She pried her hand away from Jun’s and stood, but Jun caught up with her and was able to grab her by the elbow. “I won’t leave you. Both of you.”  
  
“In case you have to, you must,” Rina said. “If the Emperor of Hamal is as clever as he made me believe, we will find a way.” She shook off Jun’s hold on her and strode out. “After all, I’m still the princess of this planet. I still know something these guards don’t.”  
  
“Wait,” Jun said, and when Rina turned, he handed her the phaser. The same one Keiko had given to him. “You can’t go there unarmed.”  
  
Rina eyed it for a moment and accepted, tucking it inside her robes. “I don’t think I’ll have any use for it. If their offer is true, they won’t harm their princess. I’ve been declared innocent.”  
  
“That’s a big risk,” Jun said. He knew he couldn’t stop her. She looked the same as she had on the day she had abdicated—determined, fearless.  
  
“Not as big as the one you will make if you go,” Rina pointed out. She lifted a communications device, and Jun wondered when she’d found the time to sync it with the ship. “I’ll get the Emperor. You stay here and don’t let anyone in.”  
  
“I’m not very good with waiting,” Jun said at her back. She was almost gone, almost past the threshold.  
  
“You’re winning the war, Jun,” Rina said. Her voice carried away as she left the bridge. “All that’s left for you to do is to wait and watch as it happens.”  
  
\--  
  
The wait was killing him.  
  
He had opened his communications device to all channels at all frequencies, and he was getting regular updates from the planetary gates. There wasn’t much of a fight—the Saiphan army began its surrender the moment they’d heard of the arrival of their rightful king. Iseya had clarified with Jun, and Jun had issued the order once the channel had been established. One by one, the ships of the Saiphan fleet had ceased firing and assumed their battle formations without engaging, and Ohno had notified Jun that the gates were secure.  
  
Which only left Rina and Sho, who were both somewhere down this tower. Rina had no messages for him, and Jun was beginning to become suspicious of her motives. She had volunteered to rescue Sho, but what if her true intentions were to help her mother?  
  
Jun knew he shouldn’t, but he was already grabbing whatever weapons they had in the cargo hold and arming himself. He had a saber strapped to his belt and a phaser that could use a few charges, but it was better than nothing. He looked out to check if the coast was clear, and seeing that most of the guards were preoccupied at keeping the tower’s prisoners accounted for while a war was ongoing, it was easy to slip past them unnoticed. Jun had learned a lot from Sheratan, that time he had to come to Ohno’s aid.  
  
There was no Ohno to aid now, but his cause remained the same: Sho needed him, and he had to be where Sho was.  
  
The slightly difficult part was finding a soldier to point the phaser at and order around. Jun picked a man who looked a few years younger than him, a fresh recruit, perhaps. He was all too willing to obey his king after swearing fealty to him, and Jun was able to get past floor after floor with the young man’s help. He had no reason to avoid detection since the tower was on full alert and nobody was using the passageways made for the guards and high-profile prisoners.  
  
He reached the lowest floor of the tower and couldn’t help feeling it had been too easy. Rina had said her mother was somewhere in the tower. Rina was also in the tower, along with Sho. Time was running out, and Jun had to find them fast.  
  
“Here, Majesty,” the soldier said, and Jun followed. He was taken to the same corridors of unpolished ore, and he couldn’t help remembering.  
  
This was where it had all began.  
  
They rounded a corner, and it was when Jun heard voices. He quickly dismissed the soldier with a shake of his head, but the man refused to leave.  
  
It was Sho’s voice he was hearing when he listened intently, and Jun was overcome with emotion when he took note of how hoarse and raw Sho sounded like.  
  
“He’ll never come,” Sho was saying to someone Jun couldn’t see. Sho attempted to laugh, but all he managed to do was choke out a cough. “I ensured it. You’re losing and you can’t reach him.”  
  
“He’ll come for you,” a voice said—Rina’s mother. “As long as I have you, I can make him do what I want.” A pause. “You say he’s here?”  
  
“Yes,” Rina said, and Jun’s breath stilled. No. It couldn’t be. “I took him to the tower myself. He should be here any moment; I made sure that he’ll wait too long that he’ll be impatient.”  
  
Rina’s mother laughed. “You see now, Emperor? He will come. He was a fool for trusting my daughter, and he’s an even bigger fool for you.”  
  
“He won’t,” Sho said, ending in a grunt. “He’s out there, flying already. Away from here. He’s winning and he’ll be king, and you’ll pay for everything you’ve done.”  
  
“That’s what you hope for,” Rina’s mother said. “I made it easy for him to find his way here. Soon, you’ll hear him come.”  
  
Jun felt the tip of a photon rifle press against his back, and he knew it was the soldier from before. “Walk,” the soldier ordered, reaching inside Jun’s coat to free him of his weapons. Jun heard them hitting the floor and being kicked far away.  
  
They appeared from the corner, and amidst the triumphant laughter Rina’s mother made, he heard Sho’s quiet, almost imperceptible “No.” Sho had tears in his eyes upon the sight of him.  
  
“I told you he’d come,” Rina’s mother said, and she delivered a swift kick to Sho’s stomach, one that had him grunting in pain. Jun took a step, but the soldier’s weapon dug into his spine threateningly.  
  
“Ah, ah.” Rina’s mother smiled. “Don’t get any ideas now, Jun.” She said his name with such distaste. “Or he dies.”  
  
“Your men have surrendered,” Jun said, and he turned on the communications device so everyone could hear Iseya’s declarations. “They just made it to the palace. I’ve won. The planet is mine.”  
  
“I suppose you came here to ask for my surrender?” Rina’s mother delivered another kick, this time making contact with Sho’s shoulder. Sho groaned as a reaction, and Jun’s hand itched for a phaser. He’d kill her. “How exciting. But first, watch. This one wanted to die for you. Who am I to deprive him of that?” She delivered a series of blows on Sho’s person, only ceasing when Sho curled in on himself and twitched away. “He never fought back, not even once. He thinks he’s saving you by being here.”  
  
Jun looked past her shoulder and at Rina, who appeared conflicted. She had betrayed Jun again and it hurt more than the first one had. “Was this the plan all along?”  
  
“She’s my mother,” was all Rina said.  
  
On the floor, Sho was able to lift his gaze to Jun’s. Then he turned to Rina’s mother and said, “You promised me—Queen Regent to Emperor—that you wouldn’t hurt him.”  
  
“Despite your state, Emperor, you’re still trying to save him. You have nothing to offer. Nothing I won’t be taking, anyway.” Rina’s mother took a step, deliberately crushing the bones of Sho’s fingers under her heel. Sho howled in pain, and Jun wanted her dead. “You’ve found yourself a whipping boy from Hamal,” Rina’s mother said to Jun. “See how he volunteers himself for you? Pathetic. I almost feel sorry for him; he risked his life for someone who would willingly walk into a trap despite his utmost efforts to prevent any of it from happening.”  
  
Jun mouthed his apologies in Sho’s direction. Sho had done so much, sacrificed so much—his life, his empire, his crown.  
  
“And now we will discuss your surrender,” Rina’s mother said.  
  
“No,” Jun said calmly, and when he was rewarded with a look of confusion, he moved. He had learned so much from Ohno, Keiko, and Kiko. He was nowhere as fast as them, but he knew no one in the Saiphan military had expected their king to be agile. Crown Prince Jun could fight in duels and tournaments, all for sport.  
  
The Jun now could immobilize and disarm a soldier in less than a minute. In moments, he had the soldier on the ground, disarmed and knocked out. Jun picked up the rifle for himself and pointed it at Rina’s mother.  
  
“Surrender,” he said. “For your crimes against the crown, I am amenable to giving you a fair trial if you say the words. Surrender now.”  
  
Rina’s mother only quirked an eyebrow, and Jun heard the click of a phaser as Rina pulled it out from her robes and pointed it at Sho. It was set to kill.  
  
“She’ll kill him if you shoot,” Rina’s mother said.  
  
“Shoot her,” Sho said from the ground. “Jun.”  
  
Jun could either shoot Rina or her mother, but despite everything Rina had done, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wasn’t a killer, and Rina had been—was still family. His finger trembled on the trigger, and Rina’s mother smiled.  
  
“You will give us a ship and allow us to escape,” Rina’s mother said. “Drop the rifle and kick it here. Or the Emperor of Hamal dies, and that’s another total on your body count.”  
  
“Shoot her,” Sho repeated.  
  
“Let us go and he can go,” Rina’s mother promised.  
  
“She’s never going to keep her word,” Sho said, and Jun could see that he was struggling to get up. His face was mottled with bruises and cuts, and there had to be broken bones and internal hemorrhaging somewhere on his person. His tunic was a bloodied mess. The longer this went on, the more danger Sho was in. “Shoot her, Jun.”  
  
Jun took a deep breath, and shot Sho a look of apology.  
  
“No,” Sho said, just as Jun put the rifle on the ground and kicked it away from him.  
  
“You should really listen to him,” Rina’s mother said, bending down to pick up the discarded rifle and arming it at Jun. “He’s smarter than you. But I suppose you both can die now. With your death, I can finally have justice after your father carelessly tossed me aside. He never cared once he had you. He only had eyes for you and your mother. I gave him a daughter to make him happy, and he was all too ready to cast it aside for a son.”  
  
“Your daughter was the heir,” Jun said. “I only became the heir when your daughter decided not to.”  
  
“Which is rather dull of her,” Rina’s mother said, as if Rina wasn’t in the same room. “But now she listens to what I tell her, and I suppose that means she can still be useful despite her inability to kill you when I trusted her to. You’re the only one left.” She smiled. “And now I’m going to kill you, but not before making you watch your lover die.”  
  
All hope left Jun’s body, and when his feet moved on their own accord, he heard the warning click of the rifle and saw it pointed at Sho.  
  
“If you move, he’ll die sooner,” Rina’s mother said. “But I suppose I should tell you how it went the last two times.”  
  
Jun was overcome with anger, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.  
  
“Your mother didn’t make it difficult, you know,” Rina’s mother said. “A few slips into her drink and she deteriorated faster than I expected. If it were up to me, I’d have killed you in the same manner I did her—discreet, painless. But your father found out, you see.”  
  
“What?” Jun asked, his voice hollow. He caught a glimpse of Rina’s expression and saw her eyes wide.  
  
“That’s why I killed him,” Rina’s mother said. “Apart from all the wrongs he’s done to me, of course. He knew you were next. But you know what he said before he died?” She grinned. “Of course not. He actually asked if I would kill his children next. He asked me to spare you both, even if it meant dying in the process. He asked me not to harm you, as if he was in a position to make demands.”  
  
Jun exchanged a look with Rina as his heart broke. His father had thought of them in his dying breath. He’d loved them truly.  
  
“And as I looked at his dying face, I said I would,” Rina’s mother told them. “He should see this, he—”  
  
A phaser shot pierced through the air like an arrow, and the body of Rina’s mother fell to ground in a heap of regal, fine clothing. She lay unmoving, and Jun saw Rina’s hands trembling around the phaser.  
  
It was set to kill. It had been set to kill.  
  
“You—” was all Jun could utter in disbelief.  
  
“She killed my father,” Rina said, eyes still wide, “who loved me as much as he did you.” The phaser dropped to the floor as Rina tried to catch her breath. “And she was going to kill you.”  
  
Jun didn’t know what to say. For a moment, he watched Rina, and in the next, he was down on his knees by Sho’s side, gently turning him over so he could examine his injuries.  
  
Sho made a noise of complaint and Jun maneuvered his body carefully so he could rest Sho’s head on his lap. He ran his fingers lightly over the cuts but Sho still grunted in pain, twitching away from his probing touch. He lowered his hand and instead placed it on top of Sho’s over Sho’s stomach.  
  
Jun heard a shuffle of movement and saw Rina backing away slowly.  
  
“Where will you go?” he asked.  
  
“I betrayed you,” Rina said. “Twice.” She looked regretful, sorrowful, halfway in a state of shock regarding her actions. “She was still my mother. I killed my mother.”  
  
“Leave,” Jun said before he could think on it. Despite her change of heart, she was still an accomplice to her mother’s treason. “Take my ship and get away from here. Don’t show yourself ever again. This—” he choked on the words and had to barrel through his emotions to get the rest out, “—is the only thing I can do for you.”  
  
Rina gave him one last look, and Jun knew she’d do as he’d asked. Then her eyes moved to Sho’s supine form. “I’ll get the physician.”  
  
“Please,” Jun said.  
  
Rina nodded and started walking away. “Goodbye brother,” Rina said over her shoulder, and Jun saw her eyes glistening. “May your reign last long.”  
  
She didn’t wait for a reply, her footsteps fading in the corridor.  
  
Jun turned back to Sho, who had his eyes closed. The rise and fall of his chest was labored.  
  
“Okada will be here any moment,” Jun said. He knew Rina would keep her word this time and call for aid before disappearing into who knew where.  
  
Sho coughed, and Jun interpreted it as his attempt to laugh. “We really need to do something about your attachment tendencies.” The cut on his lip made him wince, but to Jun, it appeared as if Sho had been attempting to smile.  
  
“Did you think I’d leave you?” Jun asked, remembering Sho’s words to Rina’s mother. “Truly?”  
  
“I wanted you to,” Sho said. “You should have. I thought I already pushed you away.”  
  
“That’s not what I asked,” Jun said. “You told Rina the sky was blue.” He couldn’t hide how touched he’d been when he’d heard those words. “Did you honestly think that after hearing that, I’d abandon you?”  
  
“No,” Sho said. He could barely keep his eyes open, and Jun wished for Okada to arrive sooner. “I knew you’d come.”  
  
Jun stilled and looked at Sho, just as Sho added, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”  
  
Whatever reply Jun had for that was halted when they heard the speakers in the corridors buzz with static, followed by the chants going, “Long live the King of Saiph! Long live King Jun!”  
  
They heard a rush of footsteps after, and Jun saw Okada with Ohno and Aiba.  
  
As they got closer, Jun knew he and Sho only had mere seconds to themselves before Sho would be taken away from him to be treated in the infirmary.  
  
There was no other time. He had to know.  
  
“How about a king for your consort?” Jun asked.  
  
Sho managed a weak, unattractive snort that only endeared him more to Jun. “I don’t look like much at present,” Sho said, gesturing to himself with the briefest of head tilts, “but will you take an emperor?”  
  
For the first time in days, Jun found himself letting out a small laugh, and without caring at the Hamali and Saiphans that surrounded them, he bent down to plant a quick kiss to Sho’s mouth.  
  
“Yes,” Jun whispered, and when he saw Sho smile, he nodded to Okada and the rest. “Yes, I will.”  
  
\--  
  
The celebrations lasted for a week, with the final day designated as the day of Jun’s ascension. It had taken a month to settle things and another month to plan for everything, and with Jun’s ascension happening in the royal palace of Saiph, there was security to consider.  
  
Aside from Hamal, Denebia had been invited. The Queen Ryoko had made her comments regarding Jun’s time in Denebia, but had otherwise given her most sincere congratulations. Her agreement to visit Saiph had been Sho’s doing, who had stood by Jun’s side during all the planning. They’d discussed back and forth, including the time they’d spent in each other’s planets now that their empire was more or less secured.  
  
With Jun’s ascension, he was bound to spend the next few months in his own planet. He and Sho were yet to discuss where Sho would be in that time, but right now, Sho was nowhere in the banquet hall. He’d apparently left Jun with all the nobility and royalty, and it took a considerable amount of time before Jun was able to excuse himself from the festivities.  
  
He avoided the corridors and slipped through a passageway unbeknownst to his guests, reaching his chambers in a short time unseen.  
  
His quarters were empty when he entered them, and Sho must’ve had dismissed the servants earlier. Jun strode inside, hearing the secret door slide shut behind him, and he headed out to where the garden was. His chambers had an accompanying garden to it, an entire balcony that had all of Jun’s trees. Sho had already seen them, but not all of them in full bloom. Jun couldn’t wait to show him once they reached the season.  
  
“Someday you should show me those passageways,” Sho said without turning. He was leaning against the railing, the cool night wind making a mess of his hair. He looked handsome in his tailored coat and matching suit.  
  
“How did you know it was me?” Jun asked, allowing himself a few moments more of staring.  
  
After the war, Jun had hardly left Sho’s side. He’d done work while remaining at Sho’s bedside, watching over his recovery personally. Now that Sho was back on his feet, Jun could still look nowhere else.  
  
He could see Sho’s smile from where he stood. “I didn’t hear an attendant announce your presence. Leaving your own party—you make a rude host.”  
  
“I learned it from someone who took me to a library instead of mingle with people,” Jun said. “You disappeared. I thought to look for you.”  
  
“I like it out here,” Sho said. Jun saw him looking at the stars, at the sky colored in various hues as fireworks exploded intermittently. Jun’s people were still celebrating. “It’s not home, but I think I can learn to treat it as one.”  
  
“It would mean the world to me,” Jun said honestly, stepping forward so he could press himself against Sho’s back and slip his arms around Sho’s waist. Sho didn’t protest, instead rested his weight a little against Jun. “How long are you planning to stay here?”  
  
“I was thinking we can do a month in each other’s planets,” Sho said. “A month here, the next one in Hamal. If we’re needed for longer, one of us has to go back and forth.”  
  
“I don’t like the distance,” Jun admitted. Despite the technology, they were still fifty-seven light years away from one another if they were in their own planets.  
  
“At full speed in the finest Saiphan ship, the hyperspace jump doesn’t even take a day,” Sho said with a laugh.  
  
“I don’t want to talk about us spending time separately,” Jun said. “It will happen in the future, I know, but let’s talk about something else for now. You weren’t here for the past two weeks.”  
  
Sho had arranged for a tentative route his people could use should they wish to visit Saiph. With Sho’s arrival for Jun’s ascension, he’d also taken some of his people with him, from a few selected members of the nobility to the vast majority of the common folk. Sho had brought ships upon ships, carrying his people and his plans for the future, and Jun had welcomed them graciously.  
  
Outside, past the borders of the royal palace, Saiphans and Hamali were still engaged in festivities. Somewhere in the palace grounds, Jun knew that Nino, Aiba, and Ohno were heading the celebrations. The three of them had gotten along fairly well after the war, hardly inseparable. Nino had postponed going home just to see Jun crowned, and Jun had finally honored him with one last card game.  
  
He’d lost to Nino, and Nino had said he could finally brag about winning against a king when he returned to Alnitak.  
  
“All right,” Sho agreed. “Shall we talk about how you turned down all of your suitors? Wherever did you learn that from?”  
  
The mock curiosity in Sho’s voice made Jun laugh. When his ascension had been made public, suitors had come flocking to Saiph. But Jun had politely refused each and every one of them, citing that marriage was the furthest thing from his mind.  
  
It wasn’t exactly true, but Jun didn’t want them. It was easy to disregard the prospect they’d offered despite the appeal to Jun’s newly acquired throne. After all, none of them were Sho.  
  
“I heard the Hamali emperor had done the same,” Jun said, playing along. “He was a snob.”  
  
“A snob,” Sho repeated with amusement. “I wonder if there’s anyone who likes his company if that’s how he is.”  
  
Jun understood the implication and tightened his arms around Sho’s form. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.”  
  
“I’m not your prisoner, am I?” Sho asked curiously.  
  
“No,” Jun said, hiding his smile against Sho’s nape. He’d had the prison tower torn down as soon as he’d won the war. There would be no prisons in Saiph. They’d send the criminals to the high prison instead, far from the planet.  
  
He inhaled and caught a whiff of something familiar and wanted. “You’re my most esteemed guest.”  
  
Sho hummed. “Is that what you tell your council when they ask?”  
  
“They don’t ask,” Jun said, which was the truth. “They talk about other matters. In case you’re having ideas, I’d prefer not to discuss them at present.”  
  
“Ah,” Sho said knowingly, and Jun sighed. “I saw the way the monarch of Cygni was looking at you.”  
  
Was it anything different? Jun had hardly noticed. He could remember faces and titles and brief exchanges of words from tonight, but his focus had been on someone else. Sho had worn Jun’s colors of dark magenta with linings of gold, despite his clothes tailored to the traditional Hamali garb. In a way, Jun’s ascension had served as a means to slowly unite their kingdoms. Cultural exchange was happening, and by the time Jun had left the celebration made in his name, he’d caught a glimpse of his court mingling with those they’d once considered as their enemies.  
  
It was starting.  
  
“Oh,” was all Jun could say. “I didn’t.”  
  
“Of course not,” Sho said with a small laugh.  
  
“I’m not dense,” Jun said in defense of himself. “I was preoccupied.”  
  
“Do you like my coat?” Sho asked, like he’d been waiting to do so for a long time, like he’d known all along that he’d been the recipient of Jun’s attention all night. “Mai designed it. She was surprisingly very particular with what I should wear to your court, as if I’d be the one presented to the Saiphans and not you. Does she know something that I don’t?”  
  
When Jun had received a congratulatory transmission from Sho's mother, he may have also had expressed the extent of his affection for Sho and had told Sho’s mother about his intentions. Sho’s mother had smiled knowingly, and had only said that her son was on his way to Saiph.  
  
“I like it,” Jun said, ignoring the second question entirely. “It’s my color.”  
  
“Yes, that would make someone like you absurdly happy,” Sho said, but it lacked bite. “You’re quite predictable.”  
  
“If I’m predictable,” Jun began, “you should know what I’m about to say.”  
  
“You’re going to ask that we head inside because you have plans for me,” Sho said.  
  
“That comes after,” Jun said, cupping Sho’s face and turning it to the side. “I wanted to do this since your arrival today.”  
  
They moved forward simultaneously, with one of Sho’s hands reaching up to hold on to Jun’s nape. The kiss felt like a reunion, a source of comfort and relief. That they had the time to waste like this wasn’t something Jun had imagined. He’d never thought it’d be possible for them to be in this balcony and simply revel in the feeling of being together, of their planets at peace.  
  
It was Sho who pulled back, resting his hand on Jun’s cheek. “Enough,” Sho said, licking his lips. “We’d be copulating here for everyone to see.”  
  
“Let’s head inside,” Jun said, which earned him Sho’s soft laugh. Jun liked to believe he’d hear more of that from now on.  
  
He let Sho go and went ahead, and as soon as Sho crossed the threshold, Jun was in his space. He ran his fingers over Sho’s cheeks, at the faded scar he’d earned from Lucida Ventris. Okada had worked tirelessly to make sure there’d be no permanent scarring on Sho after his imprisonment, but Sho had insisted he’d like to keep the one he’d gotten from war.  
  
It only made him more handsome, and Jun was kissing him before Sho could even get the chance to speak. Much as Jun loved Sho’s clever retorts, he’d rather have Sho use his mouth for something else.  
  
Jun was able to guide them both to the bed and discard his coat and Sho’s when they were standing beside it. The laces were meddlesome to fumble with, and Jun broke away from Sho’s tempting mouth when he couldn’t untie the knots that held Sho’s tunic together.  
  
“You’re tightening them,” Sho said with a smile. “Here, let me.”  
  
Jun waited impatiently, scowling at Sho snickering every now and then. Once Sho had the tunic loosened, Jun pushed the material off Sho’s shoulders. It hit the ground, and Jun resumed their kiss, burying his fingers in Sho’s hair as Sho sighed in content against his lips. Sho did quick work, seemingly capable of divesting Jun of his clothes while responding to Jun’s heated kisses.  
  
It was Sho who pushed Jun on the bed, climbing onto Jun’s lap once Jun was comfortably seated on the edge of it. Jun’s hands ended up cupping Sho’s rear to help support him, and he moved from kissing Sho’s mouth to leaving marks on Sho’s neck.  
  
Sho extended his neck, gasping in appreciation when Jun started licking at his pulse. Jun felt the skin under his tongue flicker wildly, and when he shifted, there was the undeniable press of Sho’s erection against his.  
  
“Are you in a hurry?” Sho asked breathlessly, despite being in a similar state. “We have all the time.”  
  
Sho’s smile when he had said that inevitably left a matching grin on Jun’s face. They had the time now.  
  
“We do,” Jun agreed, nipping at Sho’s collarbone. “But I missed you.” Sho had to return to Hamal after Jun had won the war, and while they’d kept seeing one another, Sho had spent most of the last month traveling back and forth, entrusting some of his council members to handle certain affairs in his stead. “Your council keeps talking and talking when you’re not here.”  
  
“Do they?” Sho asked lightly. “What do they say?”  
  
“They’re inquiring about us holding a ceremony,” Jun said, dropping another kiss to the column of Sho’s throat.  
  
“Really? This isn’t something you just overheard?”  
  
Jun relented with a “I did overhear it,” which caused Sho to laugh, his shoulders shaking.  
  
“Less intentional,” Jun added, by way of defending himself.  
  
Sho tilted his chin up and kissed him softly. “I don’t think I can handle the planning process for an official ceremony. Besides, what more do they want? I already named you as High Consort. It should be obvious.”  
  
Sho had done so the moment he’d returned to Hamal after the war was won. It had been Sho’s way of expressing the depth of regard he had for Jun, and Jun had never forgotten how he’d felt. He’d been so happy.  
  
“You Hamali are the ones adamant over tradition,” Jun said.  
  
“I’m trying to do away with that,” Sho said. “It never really did our people any good.”  
  
Jun opened his mouth to speak, but a knock from the doors stopped him. He shared a look with Sho and shook his head, knowing it was an attendant who’d been sent to ask for his final orders for the night.  
  
“Enter,” Sho said, despite Jun telling him no. Sho smiled, and Jun hid his face against the junction of Sho’s shoulder and neck, suppressing his chuckles there. They were in a compromising position, the both of them half-naked with Sho straddling him, and Jun could feel heat climbing up his cheeks.  
  
Instinctively, Jun held Sho closer to him, giving their intruder a view of Sho’s side and not the scars he had in front. These, Jun thought with a selfishness that he’d always saved for Sho, are only for me to see.  
  
“What is it?” Sho asked calmly, even when the attendant stammered.  
  
“The majordomo of the king’s household sent me to inquire about His Majesty’s final orders,” the attendant said. Jun wormed his arms around Sho’s waist and started scattering soft kisses on Sho’s shoulder. “I was also sent to inform His Majesty that all his guests have retired to their chambers and are accounted for.”  
  
“Excellent work,” Sho said. “We are in need of nothing except the doors never opening until the following morning.” Jun nipped at Sho’s earlobe to hide his pleased smile there. “Let the majordomo know.”  
  
“As you wish,” the attendant said, bowing hastily and excusing herself quickly.  
  
The doors slid shut once more, and Jun could no longer reel in his chuckles.  
  
“What?” Sho asked when Jun still hadn’t lifted his face from Sho’s shoulder despite the attendant had long disappeared. “Oh please, there’s really no room for your modesty. When we’re here, we retire to your quarters. Once you visit Hamal, you will sleep in my chambers. Everyone in the galaxy knows we’re fucking.”  
  
Jun could feel himself redden further. “That didn’t mean they have to see,” he said. “I told you not to open the door; we could have simply told her we didn’t need anything instead of letting her witness this.”  
  
The confusion was rich in Sho’s voice. “Why not?”  
  
Jun looked up to search Sho’s eyes. “I don’t like to share.”  
  
“Ah,” Sho said knowingly, smiling before planting another kiss to the corner of Jun’s mouth. “Is that why you brought up the council pestering you about a ceremony? If you wanted one, you should have simply said so.”  
  
“In Hamal, before I am the King of Saiph, I’m first High Consort to the Emperor,” Jun said.  
  
“And in Saiph, before I am Consort to the King, I’m first the Emperor of Hamal,” Sho finished for him. “You want to make things official.”  
  
“Yes,” Jun said. He’d turned down all his suitors for this, because he knew he’d never want to be with anyone else. “Will you deny me?”  
  
“Never,” Sho said immediately. “But on top of alternative trade routes, employment opportunities for both our people, and new tax reforms to be implemented, I can’t be planning a royal wedding.”  
  
“I’ll handle the planning,” Jun said.  
  
Sho frowned at him. “You just don’t want to spend hours arguing with your council over the new borders now that our alliance is secured.” Jun looked away and Sho grinned, running his forefinger on Jun’s jaw. “You have to hold court eventually, you know.”  
  
“I just got my crown,” Jun pointed out. “They can back off for a while.”  
  
Sho let out a laugh, one that Jun was glad to hear to be so close to him.  
  
“My people believe you’ll make a great king now that our kingdoms are joined. What they don’t know is that I will still do most of the work.” Sho shook his head, but he was smiling. “I can’t run two planets on my own.”  
  
“Leave the planning of the ceremony to me,” Jun said in reassurance. “We can do it in the Saiphan or the Hamali way or both. Of course, I’ll still consult you over a few things, but I’ll handle all the preparations.” He heard Sho hum, and he knew that was as good as a yes. “Then we’ll rule together because you’re right: you can’t run the empire that we created together.” He kissed Sho once, twice. “And you don’t have to. That’s why you have me.”  
  
When Sho smiled, Jun knew it was mirrored on his own face.  
  
“Yes,” Sho agreed. “I’ve always had you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space opera finally done, hoo. During the planning process for this story, I wrote character profiles for the five super boys just to get a sense of how I should write them in the context of this AU. [Here’s a link to that file](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1A6qyHcK6mSLDMnTROVeU9kqFZskt53WYn_uR_xvrYU8/edit?usp=sharing). It’s far from cohesive, but just in case this story left some of you curious about their origins/characterization, there you go.
> 
> The song I put on loop when I worked on the scenes with feels is Ken Arai’s Next To You, particularly [this piano cover](https://youtu.be/0b5uulBrDrs).
> 
> Big love and thank you to Kuri and Nina who looked over this and spotted the mistakes I made, to Di whom I talked to when I got too affected and always cheered me on, and to Pacat for writing Captive Prince.
> 
> To everyone who read this—whether you came across it in the exchange at DW or read it on an installment basis here on AO3 or on LJ—thank you for taking the time.
> 
> There might be a mini epilogue to this (aka what happens the day after the ending) that's disgustingly full of fluff. But don't hold me to that.
> 
> I’m always on twitter if you feel like shooting me a DM.
> 
> ETA (11/29/2017): This story has a graphic, which can be found right [here](https://twitter.com/eggrater/status/935803226015678464). My thanks to twitter user eggrater for the nice surprise! ♥
> 
> ETA (12/08/2017): LJ user deh100 was kind enough to draw some very good fanart for this story! You can check it out [here](https://deh100.livejournal.com/6898.html), which also has her rendition of master swindler Ninomiya. My many thanks (and tears tbh ;_;) for the beautiful pieces!


End file.
